《Start by Spending One Billion [Entertainment Industry]》


 Chapter 1

    Sheng Quan sat in the silver luxury car, directing the driver to pull over to the side of the street. She leaned out slightly, handed over some money, and called out to the busy middle-aged woman at the roadside food stall, "Auntie, one jianbing guozi, with an egg, please."


    The woman, who looked to be in her fifties with streaks of gray in her hair, was engrossed in her work. She acknowledged Sheng Quan''s order with a quick "Eh!" and reached out to take the money. But when she looked up and saw the scene before her, she couldn''t help but freeze for a moment.


    It wasn''t just her. Even the customers gathered around the food stall were casting glances filled with a mix of confusion, shock, and a hint of excitement.


    Sheng Quan, reclining comfortably in her seat, was unfazed. After all, if she had seen someone driving a multi-million-dollar luxury car to buy a four-yuan jianbing guozi in her past life, she probably would have reacted the same way.


    Take, for example, the girl over there who kept sneaking glances while pretending to look at her phone. The angle made it obvious she was secretly snapping photos of the ridiculously good-looking luxury car.


    Sheng Quan bet that after taking the photos, the girl would excitedly share them with her friends, along with the story of how she saw a wealthy person driving a luxury car to buy jianbing guozi.


    Sheng Quan pretended not to notice. If it weren''t for the fact that she was the one involved, she would have found the whole thing just as bizarre.


    But what could she do? This damn system had only given her this eye-catching luxury car and a six-month stay in the penthouse suite of a hotel, all under the guise of "newbie benefits."


    The benefits were real enough¡ªthe presidential suite was incredibly luxurious, the car was comfortable and stunning, and it turned heads wherever she went. Her outfit was top-notch, but the system hadn''t given her a single cent.


    Sheng Quan had searched every pocket she had, but all she could scrape together was two hundred yuan.


    Two hundred yuan¡ªwhat could she do with that? Even ordering at a Shaxian snack place would require careful budgeting.


    Thankfully, the penthouse suite came with some perks. Basic necessities were provided, and even the driver currently at the wheel was part of the suite''s standard service. She didn''t have to pay him a dime.


    While she could eat at the hotel when she was there, it didn''t feel right to pack hotel food to eat outside. So, jianbing guozi it was.


    And even with the jianbing guozi, she could only afford to add an egg, not a sausage. After all, after more than ten days of spending, she was down to just ninety-eight yuan and fifty cents.


    Ninety-eight yuan and fifty cents¡ªshe hadn''t been this broke even before she transmigrated!


    Perhaps sensing Sheng Quan''s frustration, the system chimed in: [Once the host successfully provides financial support, there will naturally be a cashback.]


    Sheng Quan glanced at the hardworking couple at the food stall, who were also sneaking glances at the dazzling luxury car. [I''ve already decided who my first beneficiary will be.]


    In her past life, Sheng Quan had died in a car accident. After transmigrating, she had been bound to this system, which called itself the "Support System." It claimed to be formed from the collective wishes of people, with the sole purpose of supporting exceptionally talented individuals with outstanding character but tragic fates.


    And how would it support them? With money, of course.


    As the host, Sheng Quan''s task was to find individuals with high moral character, provide them with financial support, and spend money on them. The amount of money the system would return to her, as well as the number of extra days she could "live," depended on the beneficiary''s level of gratitude toward her and the height of their career achievements.


    For example, if she found a suitable beneficiary and supported them with one million yuan, and they achieved great success in their career while also holding her in high regard, she could receive a minimum of over nine hundred thousand yuan and an additional ninety days of life. If the beneficiary only had high gratitude toward her but low career achievements, she might only get around three hundred thousand yuan and thirty extra days.


    If she ever received the full one million yuan, it would mean the beneficiary had achieved 100% career success and 100% gratitude toward her. The extra life she would gain in that case would be something extraordinary¡ªthough the system couldn''t specify exactly how extraordinary, only that Sheng Quan would find out when the time came.


    Having read plenty of novels in her past life, Sheng Quan''s first thought upon hearing the rules was: Isn''t this just a "divine tycoon" system?


    The difference was that the system didn''t just create money out of thin air. It was more down-to-earth than the systems she had read about in novels, directly transferring money to Sheng Quan through various legal means, such as the stock market, forgotten assets, buying and selling, and platform rotations. Sheng Quan felt that if the system were a person, it would be an exceptional trader.


    But in reality, the system couldn''t just trade at will. It was formed from the collective wishes of people, and only after Sheng Quan completed her support tasks could it proceed to the next step.


    [Reminder to the host.] Although it was a newly born Support System, it was still very professional in its duties: [During the initial phase, the host can only choose one beneficiary per month. If the choice is incorrect, the host will lose the opportunity to support anyone for that month, so please choose carefully.]


    This was the second frustrating aspect of the Support System, aside from "giving you a car and a house but not a single cent." It couldn''t evaluate a person''s moral character¡ªthat was entirely up to Sheng Quan to judge.


    If Sheng Quan chose a beneficiary with low moral character, the money would essentially be wasted, and she wouldn''t get a single cent back.


    But Sheng Quan was confident: [Don''t worry, I won''t make a mistake. I''ve read this book three times, so I know exactly who has high moral character.]


    Yes, this was Sheng Quan''s second "golden finger."


    She had transmigrated into a novel.


    Sheng Quan had discovered this on her first day in this world, while frantically catching up on its history and news. This world was actually the setting of a novel she had once passionately followed, titled *"The Stars Shine Brightly."*


    *The Stars Shine Brightly* was a massively popular web novel serialized on Jinjiang Novel Website, set in an alternate universe centered around the entertainment industry. Its world-building was expansive, and its characters were numerous and richly developed. Even before the novel was completed, fan works were already everywhere, with almost every character having their own fanbase. The most popular characters were adored by the masses.


    And then, the author started killing off the characters one by one.


    The one who loved singing more than life itself had their voice destroyed and could never sing again. The one who loved dancing freely on stage was in a car accident and bid farewell to the stage forever. The one who dedicated themselves to honing their acting skills was blacklisted. The one who pursued their dreams in the entertainment industry with unwavering passion left in disappointment. The most beautiful one, who cherished their appearance, was relentlessly bullied and ultimately had acid thrown on them by an anti-fan...


    The fans were furious!


    The author perfectly demonstrated what it meant to "create the most beautiful characters and then slowly destroy them." No matter how much the readers begged and pleaded, the author remained steadfast in dimming the light of each vibrant character, as if plucking a beautifully blooming flower for a cruel joke.


    As a fellow reader, Sheng Quan angrily declared: This isn''t funny at all!


    She didn''t have a favorite character; she simply enjoyed watching the characters pursue their careers. But not only did the novel have a terrible ending, it was the kind of ending that left readers feeling utterly frustrated. As someone who loved seeing characters succeed, Sheng Quan was deeply upset.


    The novel quickly went from being "this year''s best-selling novel" to "the most infuriating novel of all time." Countless readers turned into anti-fans of the author, wishing they could grind their bones to dust. Sheng Quan herself was one of those fans-turned-haters who, in a fit of rage, stayed up all night typing out a ten-thousand-word comment passionately criticizing the author.


    The next day, due to lack of sleep, she wasn''t alert enough to avoid a car that ran a red light.


    Thinking about this, Sheng Quan felt like cursing the author again. She suspected that the "wishes" the system mentioned were actually the collective resentment of readers like her. She was sure that her resentment alone could have sustained ten Xie Jianxians!


    So, it seemed perfectly reasonable that such resentment could give rise to a system.


    In any case, Sheng Quan had quickly adapted to the series of unscientific events that had led to her death, rebirth, transmigration, and acquisition of a divine tycoon system that could extend her life. After all, there wasn''t much in her past life to miss¡ªher parents had remarried and neither wanted her, the grandparents who raised her had passed away, and she only had a few friends, none of whom were particularly close.


    As for a romantic partner? Forget about it. Someone who worked from dawn till dusk every day didn''t have time for love.


    Even though she only had a few dozen yuan in her pocket now, if someone asked Sheng Quan whether her past life or her current life was better, she would definitely say the current one!


    Now, the top-floor suite priced at 188,000 yuan per night was her daily residence, and the limited-edition luxury car worth 25 million yuan was her means of transportation. She had a chauffeur to drive her around, and every staff member in the hotel treated her with utmost respect, catering to her every need. Everything she used was the best and most expensive. In her past life, Sheng Quan could never have afforded such a lifestyle no matter how hard she worked. But now, all of this had become her daily reality, and it would continue to be so in the future.


    After a brief moment of confusion, she couldn''t help but feel happy.


    The only problem was that her life now had a countdown.


    ¡¾006, how many days do I have left?¡¿


    The mechanical voice of the system responded: ¡¾Host, you have 30 days, 12 hours, and 50 minutes remaining.¡¿


    It was precise, down to the minute.


    Hearing that she only had 30 days left to live, Sheng Quan accepted it quite well. After all, strictly speaking, she wasn''t originally from this world. In her own world, she was already considered "dead." Every day she lived now was a bonus for her.


    And most importantly, with two cheat codes in hand, Sheng Quan felt incredibly secure.


    She wasn''t like those die-hard fans of popular characters who poured their hearts into their admiration. After discovering that she had transmigrated into a novel, Sheng Quan quickly decided to focus her investments on these characters. After all, they were the ones she was most familiar with in this world. By selecting those with impeccable moral character to invest in, she was certain to succeed.


    ¡¾Besides, they are all incredibly talented. I can even sign them on. Speaking of which, if I invest in a movie, as an investor, I can get a share of the box office revenue.¡¿


    Sheng Quan happily calculated in her mind: ¡¾Adding the cashback from the system, that''s two sources of income. Oh wait, I can also sell the rights¡ªthat makes three streams of income. Even without relying on the system''s cashback, I can live a very comfortable life.¡¿


    The system didn''t know how the conversation had turned into a discussion of the host''s 100 ways to make money: ¡¾...But we are a funding system.¡¿


    ¡¾Exactly.¡¿ Sheng Quan replied matter-of-factly: ¡¾As long as the funding is done properly, there''s no rule saying I can''t make money while funding, right? There''s no such rule, is there?¡¿


    The system: ...


    It felt like there was something off about the host''s reasoning, but as a system that had been created less than a month ago, it couldn''t quite pinpoint what was wrong. It could only slowly respond: ¡¾...No, there isn''t.¡¿


    Sheng Quan: ¡¾Then it''s settled. Let''s do it this way!¡¿


    Just as she finished her mental calculations, the boss lady handed over the wrapped jianbing guozi. Although Sheng Quan''s attitude was normal, just like any other ordinary customer, her actions were inevitably a bit awkward and cautious in front of such an expensive luxury car.


    Here, your Jianbing Guozi is ready.


    "Thank you, auntie." Sheng Quan smiled as she took it and glanced at the person pushing two carts toward her.


    He was around thirty, tall but not intimidating. His features were soft yet dignified, giving off a warm, spring-like vibe. Even with sweat on his forehead, he still looked refreshingly clean.


    Sheng Quan took a bite of the jianbing guozi, savoring the dry, fragrant taste melting in her throat, much like the comforting feeling the man gave her¡ªgentle and soothing.


    Even though she had only read about him in the book, Sheng Quan recognized him immediately. This was Yan Hui, the character described as "a gentleman as gentle as jade, a peerless young master" in the novel.


    In *Starlight*, Yan Hui wasn''t the most popular character, but he was definitely the one with the best reader appeal. He was the epitome of a gentleman, so much so that it felt like such a perfect person could only exist in a fictional world.


    This was also why Sheng Quan was here. When it came to moral character, Yan Hui was the first person she thought of.


    Moreover, Yan Hui was an excellent actor. If it weren''t for the fact that he had been exploited by a shady company for ten years and had offended someone while helping others, preventing him from showcasing his immense talent, Sheng Quan wouldn''t have had the chance to pick him up now.


    Under Sheng Quan''s subtle gaze, Yan Hui walked over. Perhaps to make work easier, he was wearing a faded shirt with his sleeves casually rolled up. His well-defined but not overly slender fingers rested on the cart.


    It was worth mentioning that *Starlight* was a feast for those who appreciated beauty. Even a character like Yan Hui, who wasn''t heavily featured in the book, had such striking good looks that it was impossible not to notice.


    While reading the book, the impact wasn''t as strong, but seeing Yan Hui in person, Sheng Quan, a self-proclaimed beauty enthusiast, was immediately drawn to his gentle and refined aura.


    As Sheng Quan secretly admired him, Yan Hui walked over to the boss lady and finally looked up. When his gaze fell on the eye-catching luxury car, a hint of surprise flashed in his eyes, but unlike others, he didn''t linger. Instead, he quickly averted his gaze and bent down to unload the boxes from the cart.


    The boss''s wife offered to help, but he gently refused: "Mom, your back isn''t good. Let me do it."


    Sheng Quan watched him bend down efficiently to work, thinking to herself, *But your back isn''t in great shape either.*


    Yan Hui had an old back injury from a filming accident, which hurt whenever he exerted himself. However, he was always good at hiding his pain, so few people knew about it. But of course, it couldn''t escape Sheng Quan, who had the reader''s omniscient perspective.


    The boss lady continued working while muttering: "I told you I could handle it. You''ve been working all day, you must be tired. You should rest at home. You still have the night shift later."


    Yan Hui listened patiently to his mother''s nagging, his hands moving deftly as he helped. He simply smiled and replied: "I''ve been sitting in the office all day. I needed to move around a bit."


    Looking at his relaxed smile, no one would guess that he had been doing hard labor at a construction site all day. One of the things Sheng Quan admired most about Yan Hui was that even when he was utterly exhausted, he would do everything in his power to hide it from his loved ones to avoid worrying them.


    Others might be fooled, but with her omniscient perspective, Sheng Quan could see the fatigue in the corners of Yan Hui''s eyes and the faint strain in his smile.


    This was probably the most desperate and painful period of Yan Hui''s life. With his father seriously ill and in need of money, he had given up his dream of pursuing acting to return home and shoulder the family''s burden. To quickly raise funds, he took on grueling manual labor, all while pretending to his mother that he was working a respectable office job. According to the book, he woke up at 4 a.m. and didn''t sleep until 1 a.m.


    Having been exploited by a ruthless boss in her past life, Sheng Quan could deeply relate to the part in the book where Yan Hui worked from 5:30 a.m. until midnight.


    The difference was, after just half a month of such a schedule, Sheng Quan had turned sallow, her eyes dull, and her temper short. Yet Yan Hui had endured this for two months and was still smiling for his mother.


    Even more astonishing was that despite getting only three hours of sleep a day and looking so worn out, he was still incredibly good-looking.


    As Sheng Quan openly admired him while her mind wandered, she finished the last bite of her jianbing guozi and called out: "Hello."


    Yan Hui, who had been busy, immediately looked up at the sound of her voice, his eyes questioning.


    Then he saw the girl sitting in the luxury car handing him a piece of paper and a pen.


    The girl smiled, her eyes curving into crescents: "Are you interested in acting? If you are, could you leave me your phone number? I have a project, and I think you''d be a good fit."


    "Of course, this isn''t a direct offer. If you''re interested, you''d still need to audition."


    Yan Hui was stunned. It had been so long since he''d acted that hearing the word "audition" felt like a distant memory. Before he could respond, the landlady eagerly agreed:


    "Oh! That''s wonderful! My son is an actor! Thank you so much! Yan Hui, quick, write it down."


    "Mom." Yan Hui called out helplessly, wanting to say that he didn''t have the time or energy for auditions right now, but his mother shoved a pen into his hand.


    The boss''s wife urged him: "Hurry up, don''t keep the boss waiting."


    Yan Hui had no choice but to write down his information and hand the pen and paper back to Sheng Quan. Since he had offended someone, he had been rejected too many times. He didn¡¯t hold much hope for this opportunity, as disappointment had become a familiar companion. Still, he sincerely thanked Sheng Quan, saying, ¡°Thank you.¡±


    Even if the chances were slim, he was genuinely grateful to this girl who had shown him kindness.


    ¡°You¡¯re welcome,¡± Sheng Quan replied with a smile, signaling the driver to start the car.


    The driver, clearly a professional, showed no reaction to the fact that Sheng Quan, who stayed in luxurious hotels and drove a limited-edition luxury car, had come to eat street-side pancakes and even offered an audition invitation to the pancake vendor¡¯s son. He simply focused on his job, driving in silence.


    As the eye-catching luxury car started moving again, Sheng Quan sat inside, looking down at the phone number in her hand. It was as if she could see waves of life points and money fluttering toward her like little winged creatures.


    Her mood instantly brightened.


    [System, this opportunity is to support Yan Hui.]


    Hmm...


    At least this time, Yan Hui wouldn¡¯t be disappointed again.

 Chapter 2

    As the luxury car drove away, the diners, who had been acting nonchalant just moments before, immediately started buzzing with excitement.


    "What kind of car was that? It looks so expensive!"


    Most people aren''t experts on car brands, but the difference between a regular car and a luxury one is obvious to the naked eye. The luxury of a luxury car lies in the fact that even if you don''t recognize the brand, you can tell at a glance that it must be incredibly expensive.


    "That''s a Bugatti Veyron," someone who knew about cars immediately chimed in. "And it''s a limited edition, worth at least 25 million."


    "Wow! 25 million!"


    "Someone that rich eats jianbing?!"


    "Maybe it''s just the unique taste of the wealthy. Or maybe they''re nouveau riche, but even so, to be that rich is pretty impressive."


    For them, the fact that the owner of a 25-million-yuan luxury car came to eat jianbing was a great topic of conversation. After all, it had nothing to do with them, and by the end of the day, they would probably forget about it.


    But for Yan Hui''s family, this was a hugely uplifting event.


    As soon as they got home, Yan''s Mother excitedly urged Yan Hui to rest in his room: "You don''t know when they might call you for an audition, so don''t work night shifts these next few days. Make sure you''re in good shape. And what about that face mask? Shouldn''t you be using it?"


    Yan Hui didn''t rest when he got home. As soon as he arrived, he went to the kitchen with the dishes to wash them. Hearing his mother''s words, he just smiled: "They might have just been saying it casually. Don''t get your hopes up too much, Mom."


    After ten years of ups and downs, he had grown accustomed to fleeting opportunities. At first, he would still feel excited and hopeful, but later, those feelings would always turn into disappointment. Over time, he had learned to take things in stride.


    Acting is a profession that favors the young. He hadn''t made it big by the time he was twenty, and now that he was thirty, his chances seemed even slimmer.


    "How can you say there''s no hope? You''re such a good actor! And that girl, even though she''s young, she seems really rich. I heard them say that car was worth over 20 million. Someone that rich wouldn''t just play around with you. It must be real."


    Yan''s Mother knew better than anyone how much her son loved acting. When Yan Hui found out about the family''s situation, he insisted on coming back. She never said it out loud, but deep down, she felt guilty for holding him back. Now that there was such an opportunity, she naturally hoped he could seize it.


    Seeing her tone grow more and more sorrowful, Yan Hui knew she was starting to blame herself again for the family''s struggles. He sighed inwardly but forced a smile and said soothingly:


    "Alright, Mom. If they call me, I''ll definitely go to the audition and try to land a role."


    Only then did Yan''s Mother cheer up again, continuing to nag her son to rest.


    Yan Hui didn''t listen to her. Their house didn''t have hot water throughout, and while the weather wasn''t particularly cold, constantly handling cold water was still uncomfortable. So he always took on the task of washing the dishes, not letting his mother lift a finger.


    Deep down, he also felt guilty. Guilty that at over thirty years old, he still hadn''t achieved anything, leaving his parents to worry about their livelihood and even struggle to cover his father''s medical bills.


    Yan Hui lowered his eyes, letting the cold water run over his palms as he carefully washed the dishes.


    For the first time in a long while, he felt a pang of regret. Maybe, back then, he shouldn''t have entered the entertainment industry at all.


    ****


    "Ahhh, this is the life!!!"


    Sheng Quan, with a face mask on, flopped onto the plush, oversized bed, feeling utterly content.


    As soon as she stepped into the hotel, the dedicated butler had thoughtfully prepared a full-body massage service for her to relieve the day''s fatigue. During the massage, freshly cut fruits and just-made pastries were placed within her reach, ready for her to enjoy at any moment. If she wanted soothing music, it was there. If she wanted a cinematic experience, that was available too.


    The masseuse had soft hands, applying just the right amount of pressure. Whenever her eyes lingered on a particular fruit, another attendant would immediately hand it to her.


    What made Sheng Quan happiest was that all of this was free. Because she had booked the most expensive penthouse suite for half a year, she had automatically been upgraded to the hotel''s gold card membership, and these services were part of the perks.


    The life of the wealthy is truly delightful.


    While basking in this luxurious comfort, Sheng Quan didn''t forget her money-making plans. Glancing at the balance in her account, she directly called the hotel butler and asked for Director Wan Bao''s phone number.


    The butler asked her to wait for a moment, and three minutes later, he called back with Director Wan Bao''s number, expressing his eagerness to assist her.


    This was another benefit of being wealthy that Sheng Quan had come to appreciate.


    High-end hotels like this, which were far beyond the reach of ordinary people, had extensive networks that rivaled even banks. As long as the guest''s status was high enough, they were more than willing to help with small matters like providing contact information.


    This was also why Sheng Quan had spent most of her time in the hotel researching these past few days. Now that she had resources, she needed to figure out how to use them.


    The life of the wealthy was even more seamless than she had imagined. For example, if she was willing to spend the money, the hotel could assemble a professional investment team for her within an hour.


    Now that she had identified her target and the system''s funds had been transferred, Sheng Quan felt fully confident.


    In the first few days after arriving, Sheng Quan had thought the system might be a bit of a scam¡ªit hadn''t even left her enough money to buy a phone. But now, she felt it was incredibly thoughtful.


    This wasn''t just a hotel; it was like the magical gourd from *Calabash Brothers*, granting her every wish without hesitation.


    Humming a tune, she removed the face mask. These masks were expensive, but the bathroom was stocked with two full boxes, and before she could finish them, someone would replenish the supply, just like the array of expensive skincare and makeup products on the table.


    Since coming here, Sheng Quan hadn''t stayed up late, and her skin had been in great condition. So she couldn''t really tell if these high-end skincare products were making a difference, but applying them still gave her a boost of happiness.


    Once again, she marveled at how wonderful the life of the wealthy was.


    After her skincare routine, Sheng Quan used the hotel phone to call Director Wan Bao.


    The first time, he didn''t answer. She checked the time and decided to try again in ten minutes.


    Director Wan Bao was a minor character in the novel, mentioned only briefly. But perhaps because of her transmigration, Sheng Quan found that her memory had improved dramatically. For instance, she could now recall the exact lines from the novel about Director Wan Bao.


    In the novel, a popular character had watched *The Road of Life* and loved it, but couldn''t find any information about the director. When they asked someone, this was the reply they got:


    "Director Wan is a good person and very talented, but he''s just had bad luck. Before *The Road of Life*, he made a flop. While filming this one, the investors suddenly pulled out. He refused to compromise on quality, so he scraped together his own money to keep going. In the end, this good series bankrupted him and left him with health problems. Later, someone else took over, and *The Road of Life* became a hit, but by then, it had nothing to do with him anymore."


    The entertainment industry may seem glamorous, but those familiar with it know it''s a money-eating machine. Whether it''s TV dramas, movies, or even releasing music, everything requires money.


    There are many directors who have gone bankrupt filming TV series. Once production starts, money burns every second. You either have to finish before the budget runs out, or the director has to scramble for funds. That''s why wealthy investors are so highly sought after in the industry.


    Director Wan Bao was clearly one of those directors who had been drained dry by the series he was filming.


    The series was good, and it became popular, but he, who had contributed the most, got nothing in return.


    The novel didn''t mention what happened to Director Wan Bao afterward, but Sheng Quan guessed that something tragic must have occurred, possibly even his death. Otherwise, even if he didn''t make money, a director capable of creating a hit series would have no trouble finding work. He wouldn''t be mentioned with such regret.


    As she was recalling the plot, the phone rang.


    When she answered, a tired male voice came through: "Hello, sorry I missed your call earlier. What can I do for you?"


    At this point in the story, Director Wan Bao was in the middle of filming *The Road of Life* and desperately seeking investors.


    Even without knowing the plot, Sheng Quan could tell from his tone that things weren''t going well for him.


    She confirmed once more, "Are you Director Wan Bao?"


    "Yes, I am. And you are?" On the other end of the phone, Wan Bao couldn''t help but pinch the bridge of his nose. He had spent the day trying to secure investments, doing his utmost to showcase the brilliance of his script and the lucrative returns it could bring to investors. However, due to the lackluster performance of his previous project, not many were interested.


    The sudden withdrawal of funding had thrown everything into chaos. To make matters worse, the investors had cleverly structured the contract to avoid any penalties. Wan Bao was at his wit''s end, but giving up on this project was out of the question¡ªit was a labor of love, poured with all his heart and soul.


    He had a strong feeling that if this project could be fully realized, it would be a massive hit.


    Yet, no investor seemed to believe him. After all, every director pitching for funding said the same thing.


    Wan Bao was now relying entirely on his personal savings to keep things afloat. But he knew that if this continued, he wouldn''t last much longer. Stopping now, however, would mean all his previous efforts would go to waste. So, he had no choice but to grit his teeth and press on.


    As his mind wandered through these thoughts, a crisp female voice came through the phone: "Hello, my name is Sheng Quan. I have some interest in *The Road of Life* and would like to make a personal investment. Would it be possible for you to send me the project presentation materials? I¡¯d like to delve deeper before making a decision."


    Investment?!!


    Wan Bao''s eyes lit up instantly. His headache vanished, his fatigue dissipated, and he suddenly felt as energized as if he had just downed a liter of energy drink. Even his previously weary tone became lively:


    "Of course, of course! Miss Sheng, please give me your email, and I¡¯ll send it over right away..."


    Then, thinking it might not be enough, he quickly added, "Or, if you¡¯re currently in the country, I can come to you immediately and explain everything in detail. It won¡¯t take much of your time."


    Sheng Quan: "..."


    It was clear that Director Wan Bao was in desperate need of funds.


    But this worked in her favor. The more eager he appeared, the easier it would be for her to negotiate terms. After all, they had never met before, and there was a chance Wan Bao might not be the type to accept investors dictating cast members.


    If possible, Sheng Quan didn¡¯t want to switch projects. Based on her recent analysis and research, *The Road of Life* was the most suitable project for investment at this time.


    She promptly provided the address of the hotel where she was staying. Upon hearing the name of the hotel, Wan Bao felt a wave of relief.


    This hotel was renowned for its luxury, with even the most basic rooms costing over 50,000 yuan per night. The fact that Sheng Quan was staying there indicated that she had substantial financial resources, and the amount she could invest would likely be significant.


    He was at the end of his rope, and this sudden opportunity felt like a lifeline. Without a second thought, he hung up, booked a ticket, and took the earliest flight to Shanghai.


    He didn¡¯t even stop to question the authenticity of the call. In his current situation, even a one percent chance was worth pursuing with everything he had.


    Four hours later, Wan Bao arrived at the hotel, its exterior exuding understated opulence.


    To be honest, he had never stayed here before.


    His most famous work had only achieved modest success, and the investment he had painstakingly secured had fallen through. As a relatively unknown director, he lived a frugal life.


    It was now 1 a.m., and as he stood at the entrance of the luxurious hotel, feeling out of place, a cold breeze brought a moment of clarity to his investment-fueled excitement.


    Only then did he start to ponder the myriad of questions swirling in his mind.


    Who had referred Sheng Quan to him? In his excitement, he hadn¡¯t even asked. She hadn¡¯t mentioned how much she was willing to invest either. What if she only offered a small amount? And was this call even real? Could it be a prank? He had heard of similar hoaxes before. If it turned out to be fake, this whole night would have been a waste.


    With a sense of unease, Wan Bao approached the hotel staff and mentioned Sheng Quan¡¯s name. His heart pounded, fearing they might say, "We have no guest by that name."


    Fortunately, that didn¡¯t happen. The staff smiled and said, "Miss Sheng has informed us. Please follow me, sir."


    Wan Bao breathed a sigh of relief.


    As he was led into a private elevator and watched it ascend directly to the top floor, his excitement reignited.


    He knew that this hotel had only one suite on the top floor, and it was naturally the most expensive.


    The fact that Miss Sheng, who was staying in such a room, had reached out to him for investment...


    He had made the right bet.


    Having rushed from another city without even changing his clothes, Wan Bao¡¯s mind raced with these thoughts.


    When he saw two hotel-assigned bodyguards stationed outside the room, along with a duty manager and two attendants, his confidence soared. This wasn¡¯t just a stroke of luck¡ªit was a golden opportunity!


    If he didn¡¯t seize this chance... No, he *would* seize it.


    Wan Bao quickly adjusted his mindset and mentally prepared his approach to negotiating with Miss Sheng.


    His stance was clear: whatever the terms, as long as the money came through, he was willing to agree.

 Chapter 3

    It went surprisingly smoothly.


    Sheng Quan had expected Director Wan Bao to be cooperative, but she hadn¡¯t anticipated him to be *this* cooperative. He kept smiling at her with such enthusiasm that his face seemed to bloom like a chrysanthemum.


    In her previous life, she hadn¡¯t paid much attention to the entertainment industry, and since *Starlight* was set in a fictional world, many of its settings differed from what she was familiar with. Afraid of being taken advantage of as an outsider, she had spent several days holed up in her hotel room, cramming to gain a basic understanding of this world¡¯s entertainment scene.


    This was typical of Sheng Quan¡¯s approach to things. Even though she had a "tycoon system" and had transmigrated into a novel, she wasn¡¯t the type to charge forward blindly without first understanding the world she was in.


    She had finished reading the original novel of *The Road of Life*, confirmed that her intended beneficiary, Yan Hui, had both the looks and the temperament to fit the role she wanted for him, and only then did she contact Director Wan Bao.


    When Wan Bao heard that Sheng Quan was familiar with the characters in *The Road of Life*¡ªand quite deeply at that¡ªhe felt a sudden sense of clarity. "Are you a fan of the book?" he asked.


    That explained it. A wealthy individual investor appearing out of nowhere? If she was a fan who wanted to invest in the adaptation after reading the book, it all made sense.


    A wealthy female fan¡ªhe got it.


    Sure, he¡¯d never seen one as young and beautiful as Sheng Quan before, but that wasn¡¯t important. What mattered was that she had money.


    Sheng Quan was happy to let Wan Bao misunderstand. "You could say that. I particularly like the character Qin Heng. I heard your team hasn¡¯t finalized the actor for that role yet?"


    Wan Bao immediately perked up, sensing where this was going. "That¡¯s right. We had someone lined up, but there were some scheduling conflicts, so the role is currently open."


    It was common for investors to recommend actors for roles. The quality of the role usually depended on how much money the investor was willing to put in and how influential or strong-willed the director was.


    Wan Bao, who was currently so broke that all he had left was equipment, was well aware of his situation. In the past, he had been against the idea of actors being brought in through investments, but after being beaten down by reality, he had shifted from "I¡¯d rather not take the money if it means compromising the project" to "As long as it doesn¡¯t mess with the main plot, you could send a dog to play a cat, and I¡¯d be fine with it."


    Qin Heng¡¯s role was one of those that could attract a lot of fans if done well, but even if it wasn¡¯t, it wouldn¡¯t ruin the viewing experience. It could add value if executed properly, but if not, it wouldn¡¯t make much of a difference.


    Why was Wan Bao so clear on this? Because the actor originally lined up for Qin Heng had been recommended by an investor. When that investor pulled out, the actor left too, leaving the role vacant.


    Sheng Quan asking about Qin Heng was a much better scenario than Wan Bao had feared. After all, he¡¯d already "sold" the role once; selling it a second time didn¡¯t weigh on his conscience at all.


    Wan Bao immediately took the initiative. "Does Miss Sheng have someone in mind?"


    He didn¡¯t even bother asking if she was sure about the investment. If she was recommending an actor, he was confident she¡¯d follow through with the money.


    "There is someone," Sheng Quan admitted.


    She couldn¡¯t help but marvel at how shrewd people in the entertainment industry were. She didn¡¯t even have to bring it up¡ªWan Bao had handed her the opportunity on a silver platter.


    She wasn¡¯t one to beat around the bush. In the entertainment industry, money was king.


    Sheng Quan set down the *Project Presentation Materials* she was holding and got straight to the point. "I¡¯ll invest ten million. The specifics, including profit-sharing and rights, will be handled by my team. The condition is that I get to decide who plays Qin Heng. If you have no objections to that, we can proceed."


    Wan Bao froze.


    His mind was spinning with the words "ten million, ten million, ten million."


    Ten million!!!!


    To put this into perspective, the entertainment industry in this world was highly polarized when it came to investment amounts. Unlike the inflated budgets of Sheng Quan¡¯s previous world, in *Starlight*, the industry was split between the cheap and the exorbitant, with prices directly tied to fame.


    This applied to directors, actors, singers, composers¡ªeveryone.


    Some projects were dirt cheap, while others were ridiculously expensive.


    In this context, ten million was a formidable sum.


    For a director like Wan Bao, leading an ordinary crew, managing to secure five million in funding would have been a stroke of incredible luck. Since most of the actors weren¡¯t well-known and thus didn¡¯t command high fees, four million would have been enough to cover the entire production.


    Of course, Wan Bao wasn¡¯t satisfied with just four million. The quality of this drama was high, and as everyone knew, improving the quality of a TV series required one thing above all else: money.


    Beautiful cinematography, multiple takes, elaborate sets, custom costumes, hiring actors, crew, post-production, editing, dubbing, location scouting¡ªit all cost money.


    It wouldn¡¯t be an exaggeration to say that every director¡¯s dream was to have an unlimited budget once filming began.


    Directors without money had no choice but to cut corners, and those like Wan Bao, who refused to compromise on quality, had to struggle relentlessly. Even the rights to the novel had been acquired because the book was relatively obscure¡ªwell-written but not a commercial hit.


    And now! Sheng Quan was offering him ten million!!!


    The investor who had pulled out had only put in four million!


    "Miss Sheng, I¡¯m willing, of course I¡¯m willing. You can decide who plays Qin Heng. I¡¯ll sign a Level Six contract with you. I¡ªas long as you invest, I¡¯m fine with anything..."


    Wan Bao was so excited he could barely string his words together. This was the first time since graduating that he¡¯d encountered such a massive investment, especially one that came as a lifeline. If he weren¡¯t afraid of scaring Sheng Quan off, he¡¯d have jumped up and kowtowed to her on the spot.


    Having read the novel and done her research, Sheng Quan knew what Wan Bao meant by the highest-tier contract. In this world¡¯s entertainment industry, investment contracts were divided into seven levels.


    Each level increased in benefits and authority for the investor, with various subcategories. The higher the level, the more advantageous it was for the investor, while lower levels favored the production side.


    Most investments only reached Level Four. From there, the higher the level, the more the investor stood to gain, and the lower, the more the production side benefited. Wan Bao offering Level Six outright showed just how serious he was.


    While Sheng Quan did want to make money, she didn¡¯t want to strip Wan Bao of too much control. Her investment was substantial by current standards, but fairly speaking, Level Five was already pushing it in her favor. Wan Bao was clearly trying to lock her in by offering such a lucrative deal.


    Sheng Quan loved dealing with honest people like him, but she wasn¡¯t the type to take advantage of their honesty. "Would it be possible to arrange an audition in the next few days?"


    Wan Bao was first surprised that Sheng Quan hadn¡¯t jumped at the Level Six offer, but her mention of an audition left him even more stunned.


    He hesitated for a moment before asking softly, "Will the audition be open to the public?"


    Some investors liked to go through the motions, holding auditions for roles they¡¯d already decided on, just to make it seem like the chosen actor had fairly beaten out the competition.


    Wan Bao didn¡¯t say it out loud, but he wasn¡¯t a fan of this practice. If the role was already decided, why invite other actors to audition? It was unfair to those who prepared diligently, only to find out they never stood a chance.


    Fortunately, this new, incredibly generous investor didn¡¯t seem to enjoy toying with people. She replied naturally, "No, it¡¯s just for him."


    "While I think he¡¯s a good fit for the role, we won¡¯t know for sure until he auditions, right, Director Wan?"


    Though Wan Bao¡¯s internal monologue was more along the lines of *"Ten million! Even if he¡¯s not suitable, I¡¯ll praise him until he¡¯s perfect!"* he quickly agreed, "Absolutely, that¡¯s exactly what I think. We¡¯ll give him a fair shot, no problem with an audition."


    Sheng Quan didn¡¯t pick up on Wan Bao¡¯s inner turmoil. Despite all her preparation and feeling confident about the outcome, she was still in a good mood now that things had gone so smoothly.


    Next, all she needed was to coordinate with the hotel to assemble a professional negotiation team.


    Money wasn¡¯t an issue this time. Since the investment in *The Road of Life* was meant to "support" Yan Hui and help him secure the role, all related expenses could be covered by the system¡¯s funds.


    Sheng Quan made a few phone calls and signed a few checks, and by the next day, she had secured a contract filled with sincerity.


    Having traveled through time for so many days, this was the first time she felt the joy of spending money lavishly. Back when she used to read stories about the ultra-rich, she thought ten million wasn¡¯t much, but now that she had her own system, she truly realized just how massive that amount of money was¡ªand the feeling of spending it was... absolutely exhilarating!


    As the one who had received this fortune, Wan Bao was even more eager than her to finalize everything. By the time everything was settled, this chubby, bearded director in his early thirties, who looked like he was in his forties, was practically ready to take off.


    Holding the contract that had been signed at lightning speed, he was completely immersed in the euphoric emotion of, "Ah~ I''m so happy I could faint," unable to snap out of it.


    At a time when no one believed in him, when he was at his most desperate, Sheng Quan had descended like a fairy from the heavens, believing in his talent, recognizing his abilities, and giving him such a massive sum of money. Wan Bao was so overwhelmed with gratitude that he could barely contain it. He felt like swearing to the heavens that he would pour his heart and soul into making this TV series, ensuring it would shine in its most perfect form, so as to repay Sheng Quan, his investor, with substantial profits.


    "I will definitely make this series well. Thank you, truly, thank you so much..."


    Sheng Quan sent off the sleep-deprived, dark-eyed but highly energetic Director Wan, who kept expressing his loyalty to her every now and then. Once he left, she immediately had her driver take her to buy a new phone.


    She was using the system''s funds. Presumably, the system was worried she might run out of lifespan before she could even get the returns. For her first task, the system had given her a generous beginner''s package¡ªa whopping twelve million. After deducting the ten million and various other expenses, she still had over a million left, which was nothing to scoff at.


    When she was broke, she didn¡¯t have much to spend on, but now that her card was loaded, Sheng Quan naturally wanted to splurge.


    When Sheng Quan bought the phone, the system raised a slight objection. After all, according to the rules, until she received the returns, the money could only be used for matters related to the person she was funding.


    She had a solid reason: ¡¾I need the phone to contact Director Wan and discuss the auditions for the person I¡¯m funding. Tell me, how am I supposed to follow up without a phone? Right?¡¿


    The system: ...That seems reasonable.


    Then Sheng Quan bought a computer: ¡¾This computer will let me receive emails from Director Wan. Everyone uses email for work these days. It¡¯s totally reasonable.¡¿


    The system: ...I guess that makes sense too.


    And so, Sheng Quan went on a shopping spree, happily buying one thing after another all afternoon. She ended up with a pile of beautiful clothes, shoes, bags, and jewelry¡ªall for when she would meet Yan Hui.


    The system watched and grew anxious: ¡¾Host, friendly reminder, you only have one month of lifespan left.¡¿


    ¡¾No rush.¡¿ Sheng Quan was calm. Since she had spent days understanding the situation and laying the groundwork, she was fully prepared: ¡¾Thirty days might be tight in other industries, but in the entertainment industry, it¡¯s more than enough. Similarly, in other industries, you might need to hurry, but in the entertainment world, rushing won¡¯t speed things up.¡¿


    Just the filming and release of a TV series alone would take a long time.


    After picking out her bags and clothes, Sheng Quan looked at her long hair in the mirror. Ever since she stopped staying up late, her hair seemed to have gained more shine¡ªthough it might also be thanks to the expensive conditioner and hair oil in the hotel.


    Since she had all these, it would be rude not to get her hair done. After all, a good hairstyle is perfect for discussing collaborations, and a well-dressed investor would definitely boost the morale of the crew.


    Sheng Quan: ¡¾006, isn¡¯t this reasonable?¡¿


    The system: ¡¾...Reasonable.¡¿


    Sheng Quan smiled and praised it: ¡¾Our 006 is getting smarter and smarter.¡¿


    This was the first time the system had been praised. After all, it had only been born less than a month ago. Hearing Sheng Quan¡¯s cheerful tone, it even felt a slight sense of shyness. It quickly pushed aside its minor objections and even enthusiastically offered advice:


    ¡¾Host, buy these shoes. They look great.¡¿


    While Sheng Quan was happily shopping and successfully winning over the system, Yan Hui, who was busy working at a construction site, exhausted, received a call notifying him of an audition.


    He was stunned for a full two seconds. After confirming the details of the production team and the time and location of the audition, he calmly hung up the phone.


    The audition was in Wuzhou, as the crew was filming there, and all the crew members were stationed there, so naturally, the audition would be held there as well.


    That night, Yan Hui sat in his room, lost in thought for a long time.


    It would take two and a half hours to fly from Wuzhou to Shanghai, and even longer by train. For him, this would be a trip that would disrupt his current work and drain his wallet.


    Yan Hui didn¡¯t think the distance was the production team¡¯s fault. After all, many auditions were like this, and not every production team held auditions in the same location. Actors who wanted a role had to find a way to get there themselves.


    In the past, he would have gone without hesitation, but now...


    Yan Hui looked down at the phone in his hand, where he had written down the address. His slender fingers tightened around it, as if holding onto the acting career he had loved and pursued since he was a child.


    For some reason, he thought of the young woman who had handed him the pen and paper with a smile that day.


    Her gaze had been filled with admiration. Though their interaction had been brief, Yan Hui could tell that she genuinely believed he deserved this audition opportunity.


    If Director Wan knew that Yan Hui was hesitating because of the distance, he would have felt extremely wronged. From his perspective, as long as Yan Hui showed up for the audition, he would definitely get the role. He could arrive that day and stay with the crew immediately.


    How could he have known that the wealthy investor behind the production team hadn¡¯t communicated this to Yan Hui?


    The system, however, had predicted this: ¡¾Host, what if Yan Hui decides not to go because it¡¯s too far?¡¿


    ¡¾He¡¯ll go.¡¿ Sheng Quan was happily trying on new clothes in front of the mirror. After a whole day of shopping, she showed no signs of fatigue and was glowing with energy.


    She smiled at her reflection, showing none of the anxiety one might expect from someone with only thirty days left to live: ¡¾If someone wants to succeed in their career, it¡¯s not enough for me to just throw money at them. They still have to put in the effort and make the choices themselves.¡¿


    ¡¾What I want isn¡¯t just a short-term extension of my life. Sure, I could push him up now, but how long would he last? Achievements have to be earned step by step to truly belong to someone. Besides, I¡¯m a fan of the novel.¡¿


    If Yan Hui, with his gentle exterior, didn¡¯t have even a hint of edge, how could he have won over so many readers?


    After picking out her outfit, Sheng Quan picked up her new bag. She used to think spending over a hundred thousand on a bag was a waste, but now that she had the means: a hundred-thousand-dollar bag really does look amazing~


    ¡¾Alright, let¡¯s go too.¡¿


    The system was puzzled: ¡¾Where to?¡¿


    Sheng Quan opened the door: ¡¾Of course, to the audition. As the big investor, I should go take a look at the production team, show off a little... I mean, broaden my horizons~¡¿

 Chapter 4

    "What is the director up to?"


    Zhou Zhi, the male lead of *The Path of Life*, sat next to the female lead, Lin Aike, while touching up his makeup with a small mirror. He couldn''t help but sneak curious glances ahead.


    Up front, their director, Wan Bao, who was usually frowning and tense, now had an expression of barely contained joy. He kept looking up repeatedly, as if waiting for someone.


    The drama had a modest budget, and they couldn''t afford big stars. The most accomplished actor in the crew was Lin Aike, who had played a minor role in a moderately popular drama, earning her a small fanbase and a bit of recognition in the fiercely competitive entertainment industry.


    Though she wasn''t a big name in the industry, within this small crew, everyone treated her with respect. However, she wasn''t the type to let it go to her head. The crew was so tight on budget that they only had one makeup artist, who was often too busy. So, like Zhou Zhi, she sat on a small stool, touching up her own makeup.


    Hearing Zhou Zhi''s question, Lin Aike also looked up, her pretty face showing curiosity. "The director has been there since four o''clock. It''s been an hour now, hasn''t it?"


    Zhou Zhi glanced around and lowered his voice, as if sharing a secret. "Did you know the director went out yesterday?"


    Though she didn''t know what it was about, Lin Aike couldn''t help but lower her voice too, mimicking his conspiratorial tone. "No, I didn''t. Who told you?"


    "Sister Wang mentioned it." Sister Wang was the crew''s only makeup artist, though her actual job was sound engineering. The crew couldn''t afford a dedicated makeup team, so Sister Wang, who loved doing makeup, had stepped in.


    Zhou Zhi whispered, sharing the gossip, "Sister Wang said the director rushed out last night to secure funding. He thought it would take a few days and even made work arrangements, but he came back today."


    His eyes sparkled with anticipation. "Don''t you think it''s strange that he came back so quickly and seems so happy? Do you think he got the funding?"


    Lin Aike felt a surge of hope too. She glanced at the director, who was pacing around in circles, and said with growing excitement, "It must be. He does look really happy."


    The director hadn''t smiled since the investors pulled out.


    The actors in the crew were all hoping the director could secure new funding. After all, they weren''t big stars, and every acting opportunity was precious. They had worked so hard, hoping the drama would succeed once it aired.


    Lin Aike shared the same sentiment. After her last drama aired, she had gained a bit of fame, but it was only a minor role. Most of the offers she received were for supporting roles, like the fourth or fifth female lead, never anything more substantial.


    *The Path of Life* was the only project willing to cast her as the female lead. She had high hopes for the script and was even more impressed after joining the crew. Though the director''s perfectionism made filming grueling, it also increased the chances of the drama doing well after its release.


    So when the crew ran into financial trouble, Lin Aike secretly hoped the director would pause production to secure funding. She was even willing to turn down other projects and wait for filming to resume.


    Unfortunately, her agency didn''t share her enthusiasm. Seeing the crew struggle to secure funding, her agent had already started selecting her next project, ready to pull her out as soon as the director gave up.


    Lin Aike didn''t want to leave, but her agency didn''t care about her opinion. In fact, they were displeased with her for trying to persuade them to let her stay.


    Thinking of this, she sighed, her hope overshadowed by pessimism. "But our crew doesn''t seem that impressive. Can we really attract significant investment?"


    "Even if it''s not a lot, we can make do with less," Zhou Zhi said, cherishing his rare opportunity to play the male lead. "As long as we can finish filming and get it aired, that''s enough."


    As they both wrestled with their hopes and worries, a line of vehicles appeared in the distance.


    Zhou Zhi''s eyes widened. "Cars! There are cars coming!"


    Lin Aike was confused. "What''s the big deal about cars?"


    Their filming location was in a remote mountain area with winding roads. It wasn''t unusual to see a few cars passing by.


    "But look at those cars!"


    Lin Aike stood up and followed Zhou Zhi''s gaze. Her pretty eyes widened, and even she, who always cared about her image, couldn''t help but murmur, "Oh my god..."


    On the mountain road below, a convoy of imposing SUVs was approaching. There were at least ten of these black beasts, their combined presence exuding an overwhelming aura of power.


    Even Lin Aike, who wasn''t interested in cars and couldn''t recognize the brand, could tell these vehicles were expensive and imposing.


    "Each of those cars costs at least three million," Zhou Zhi, who knew about cars, couldn''t help but calculate. "And there are so many of them. That''s over thirty million right there."


    Not only were they shocked, but even the director, standing ahead, looked stunned. After the initial surprise, his expression quickly turned to joy, as if he had realized something.


    The cars soon arrived at the mountaintop. Fortunately, the area was spacious enough to accommodate them. The vehicles parked on either side, and the driver of the central car got out to open the rear door.


    A young, beautiful woman stepped out.


    Sheng Quan removed her sunglasses (though the weather didn''t really call for them¡ªshe just wanted to make an impression) and gestured for the people in the cars to start unloading.


    It had to be said, while the system didn''t provide money, it never fell short in other areas. Just the perks from her first mission included these twelve SUVs, conveniently purchased in Wuzhou and ready for her to pick up.


    Individually, a three-million-yuan SUV might not compare to her twenty-million-yuan luxury car, but a convoy of over a dozen imposing black SUVs was a different story. They had turned heads all along the way.


    For Sheng Quan, this wasn''t just about showing off. It also gave her the confidence to make a grand entrance. After all, people judge you by your appearance first.


    The crew members, who hadn''t even met her yet, were already in awe of this suddenly appearing young woman. As they wondered what was going on, they saw their usually stern and unsmiling director, Wan Bao, warmly greet her with a smile.


    "You''re here! What an honor, what an honor!"


    Sheng Quan smiled and shook his hand, introducing the man who had walked up beside her. "This is Yu Xiangwan, the person I mentioned on the phone. From now on, he''ll be the production supervisor for our crew."


    Yu Xiangwan extended his hand with a smile. "Director Wan, I look forward to working with you."


    Wan Bao immediately shook his hand. "Hello, hello! No need for formalities. We''re all colleagues now."


    As the primary investor, Sheng Quan needed to appoint a reliable and steady production supervisor to oversee the crew''s progress. In other words, Yu Xiangwan was her eyes and ears in the crew¡ªher representative.


    Wan Bao naturally understood this and was ready to cooperate fully. The production supervisor was essentially the financial manager of the crew, overseeing every expenditure. Every financial transaction had to be approved by Yu Xiangwan before being reported to Sheng Quan.


    In short, if the crew needed money, they had to get the supervisor''s approval.


    Wan Bao hadn''t heard of Yu Xiangwan before and wondered if Sheng Quan had brought him in from elsewhere.


    A major investor who could invest ten million in a drama and arrive in a convoy of luxury cars was someone to be taken seriously. Her appointed supervisor was definitely someone to cooperate with.


    Sheng Quan watched the two shake hands with a smile. She hadn''t chosen just anyone. With the advantage of having read the book, she naturally made the most of it.


    Yu Xiangwan had appeared in the book more often than Wan Bao. The book mentioned several times how he, as a production supervisor, had coordinated numerous crews to successfully complete their projects, overcoming various challenges along the way.


    Many viewers only pay attention to the director and actors when watching a drama, often overlooking the contributions of the behind-the-scenes staff. But after delving deeper, Sheng Quan realized how crucial a good production supervisor was to a crew''s success.


    Yu Xiangwan was born to be in the production business. The book details his journey into the industry at the age of eighteen, where he spent over a decade climbing the ranks and accumulating rich experience. It wasn''t until he was thirty-two that he finally seized an opportunity to shine, and from then on, his career steadily progressed.


    A smart man with a strong ability to learn, Yu Xiangwan quickly noticed Sheng Quan''s desire to understand the ins and outs of the entertainment industry when he first joined her side. Throughout their journey, he used his deep, pleasant voice, laced with humor, to explain and enlighten her.


    So, this place was truly a paradise for those who appreciate good looks. Even Yu Xiangwan, whose profession was production, was quite handsome.


    Of course, he didn¡¯t reach the level of a celebrity, but he could certainly be described as refined and presentable. With a clean-cut appearance and a pair of glasses, his subtle smile reminded Sheng Quan of the elite type¡ªoutwardly polished but secretly cunning.


    And indeed, Yu Xiangwan was exactly that kind of person.


    However, beyond his competence and looks, there was an even greater quality that made Sheng Quan choose him: his deep sense of gratitude. When his adoptive mother fell ill, he was willing to "sell himself" to help cover her medical expenses.


    Sheng Quan had helped him, and in return, he was willing to dedicate his complete loyalty to her.


    Of course, he wasn¡¯t without flaws. For instance, his moral compass wasn¡¯t always clear, and in the book, he was a controversial character. But after weighing the pros and cons, Sheng Quan still decided to use him.


    During their first meeting with Director Wan Bao, Yu Xiangwan subtly and effortlessly gathered a rough understanding of the current situation within the crew. When Director Wan Bao offered to treat everyone to a meal, Yu Xiangwan smiled and said:


    "Miss Sheng mentioned that since it¡¯s her first time visiting the set, she brought some food and drinks for everyone. Since it¡¯s mealtime, why don¡¯t we distribute them first?"


    This was a move to win over the crew for Sheng Quan, while also solidifying her position as the top investor on set.


    Unfortunately, Wan Bao didn¡¯t pick up on this at all.


    He was simply delighted. Food? A big boss visiting and bringing food? It had to be better than the usual boxed meals.


    Thinking this, Wan Bao nodded repeatedly, "Great, great, thank you, Miss Sheng. You guys, come over here, help unload the food from the car. This is our investor, Miss Sheng. All these treats were brought by her for the crew..."


    Sheng Quan chuckled inwardly, while Yu Xiangwan remained composed. His priority was ensuring Sheng Quan¡¯s unshakable position within the crew. If Wan Bao hadn¡¯t cooperated, Yu Xiangwan wouldn¡¯t have hesitated to act fiercely, like a mad dog, to secure the best interests for his master.


    But since Wan Bao was willing to play along, that was naturally the best outcome.


    The entire crew was called over to share the meal, and in doing so, they learned that their production had secured a major investor.


    Though the exact investment amount wasn¡¯t disclosed, the sight of over a dozen SUVs just for transporting food, coupled with the director¡¯s unmistakably flattering smile, made it clear that the sum was substantial.


    The production could continue!


    And with even more funding to spare!


    All thanks to the seemingly young Miss Sheng standing before them.


    The lead actors were brought over by the director to greet Miss Sheng. Some of the younger actors were a bit nervous, but all of them displayed varying degrees of flattery, whether subtle or overt.


    Sheng Quan, on the receiving end of this attention, found it quite enjoyable. Who wouldn¡¯t be happy being surrounded by a group of people fawning over them? Especially when these actors were all good-looking, a feast for the eyes of any admirer of beauty.


    Too bad it was only for a short while.


    Yu Xiangwan, smiling, chatted casually with the assistant director, naturally gathering more information about the crew while occasionally glancing over at Sheng Quan.


    He noticed that Sheng Quan¡¯s gaze often lingered appreciatively on the most attractive actors, her eyes occasionally revealing a hint of delight.


    Yu Xiangwan smiled faintly. Though he hadn¡¯t spent much time with Miss Sheng, it was clear she enjoyed being around beautiful people.


    He turned to the assistant director and said, "Let¡¯s arrange a dinner with the lead actors tonight. I¡¯ll take care of the arrangements."


    The assistant director readily agreed.


    That evening, during dinner, Sheng Quan found herself seated between the most beautiful actress in the crew, Lin Aike, and the most handsome actor, the male lead Wang Zheng.


    What a feast for the eyes.


    These actors, who would have been considered top-tier even in her past life¡¯s entertainment industry, spent the entire meal chatting and laughing with her. Seeing their flawless skin up close was an added bonus, and the conversation alone lifted Sheng Quan¡¯s spirits significantly.


    After dinner, on the way back to the hotel, Sheng Quan couldn¡¯t help but admire the photos she had taken with the lead actors on her phone.


    She was in an exceptionally good mood¡ªhaving enjoyed the scenery, indulged in good food and drinks, and met several attractive actors. And now, as she basked in her joy, her loyal subordinate was diligently working beside her.


    No wonder her boss in her past life always seemed so energetic. Having a loyal subordinate who anticipated her every need and thought ahead for her¡ªwho wouldn¡¯t be happy?


    Just as she was thinking this, the loyal subordinate, Yu Xiangwan, who had been quietly working on his laptop, closed it, adjusted his glasses, and looked over at her. His narrow eyes behind the gold-rimmed glasses were calm but intent.


    His voice was magnetic, the kind that exuded reliability, and his tone was steady as he spoke. Yet, the content of his words was anything but ordinary:


    "If you like them, I can arrange for your favorite actor to accompany you tonight."


    And by "accompany," he didn¡¯t just mean for dinner.


    Yu Xiangwan¡¯s expression was serious, clearly not joking. He was genuinely suggesting this and was already pondering how to make it happen.


    Sheng Quan: "..."


    Isn¡¯t this a bit too loyal?

 Chapter 5

    Alright, this fits the character perfectly.


    Yu Xiangwan''s flaws are quite evident. He is a controversial character in the novel, making his first appearance to apologize on behalf of his boss''s son. In the end, he downed an entire bottle of baijiu on the spot, single-handedly resolving the mess caused by the boss''s son before passing out and being rushed to the hospital.


    This man is ruthless toward others, but even more so toward himself.


    There¡¯s no doubt about his capabilities, but as someone who climbed his way up from the bottom of the entertainment industry, his methods of handling situations often come across as overly extreme.


    To put it bluntly, he¡¯s like a blade.


    In his mind, there¡¯s no concept of right or wrong. Whoever wields this blade can command him to do anything, and unfortunately, his boss in the novel is a villain. Thus, every time he appears, it¡¯s almost guaranteed to spark heated debates in the comment section.


    And now, Sheng Quan is his boss.


    Sheng Quan dares to say that if she were to express a desire for someone, Yu Xiangwan would go to any lengths to make it happen.


    After all, the first time she met him, he was trying to "sell himself" to raise money for his foster mother¡¯s medical treatment. When all other options failed, the only solution he could think of was to sell his own body.


    If Sheng Quan hadn¡¯t arrived in time, he might have truly gone through with it.


    In the novel, he¡¯s always dressed in layers, hiding the horrifying scars that cover his body. This is precisely why, despite his ruthless actions, readers remain divided about him. Although the book doesn¡¯t go into detail, any reader can tell that Yu Xiangwan has endured unimaginable hardships and tragedies.


    Sheng Quan glanced at the exposed wrist where Yu Xiangwan had rolled up his sleeve. His skin was pale, and the small section revealed was strikingly fair.


    At this point, he hadn¡¯t yet acquired those terrifying scars. The wounds that would later force him to cover himself in long sleeves and pants must have appeared after his attempt to "sell himself."


    In the novel, where she didn¡¯t exist, he had to pay a steep price to fetch a high value for himself.


    Seeing Yu Xiangwan still looking at her with utmost seriousness, as if ready to fetch her a handsome man at her slightest command, Sheng Quan couldn¡¯t help but laugh:


    ¡°No need. Just looking at them is enough to brighten my day. They¡¯re actors, not escorts.¡±


    After a moment of thought, she turned back to Yu Xiangwan. Though she knew it was unlikely she could change this loyal subordinate¡¯s worldview, she still added earnestly, ¡°And you¡ªyou¡¯re my producer, not a pimp. I didn¡¯t hire you for that. Just focus on doing your job well.¡±


    ¡°Just focus on doing your job well.¡±


    This phrase felt foreign to Yu Xiangwan. He had started working at a young age, entering the entertainment industry at eighteen. In this fiercely competitive and cutthroat field, there was no such thing as simply doing your job and calling it a day.


    But now, someone was saying this to him.


    For Yu Xiangwan, who had struggled at the bottom for so long, this was something entirely new.


    It reminded him of the first time he met Sheng Quan. Before being taken to the hotel, he had deliberately put on his most expensive outfit, groomed his hair, and showered. Back then, he had even prepared himself for the possibility of being mistreated.


    But when he arrived, all he saw was a young woman handing him a contract:


    ¡°I¡¯ve heard you¡¯re highly capable. I need someone familiar with the entertainment industry to manage things for me.¡±


    Before that, no one had ever praised Yu Xiangwan for his professional skills. Instead, he was often subjected to leering gazes, with people dropping hints or outright suggesting that he use his body to climb the ladder.


    Yu Xiangwan had always refused such offers, but deep down, those words had seeped into his psyche, gradually convincing him that his only worth lay in his appearance.


    So, when his foster mother¡¯s illness required money, he eventually gave in and walked down that path.


    But now, Sheng Quan, the one who had essentially "bought" him, was telling him to just focus on his work.


    Yu Xiangwan¡¯s dark eyes flickered with a hint of confusion. All his life, the message he had received from others was that his face and body were his only assets. He had always believed in his own abilities, but this was the first time someone else had acknowledged them.


    Though he couldn¡¯t quite put the feeling into words, he quickly nodded in obedience. ¡°Understood. I¡¯ll follow your instructions.¡±


    There was something inexplicably obedient about him.


    The way he looked at her with such focused sincerity made Sheng Quan¡¯s fingers itch with the urge to pat his head.


    After silently repeating to herself, ¡°He¡¯s a person, not a cute little animal,¡± she finally managed to suppress the impulse.


    The words in the novel were different from the living, breathing people in reality. Since arriving in this world, Sheng Quan had become acutely aware of this.


    In the book, Director Wan came across as stubborn, willing to bankrupt himself to finish the drama. But in reality, after interacting with him, she realized it was more about his confidence in his own talent and the desperate resolve of someone with no way out.


    It was a high-stakes gamble, but at this moment, he couldn¡¯t see the ending. He didn¡¯t know that he would eventually leave due to illness.


    In the book, Yan Hui is a gentleman of grace and charm. People often see his gentleness and tolerance, but when Sheng Quan looks at him, she notices not only his refined demeanor but also his struggles and helplessness in life.


    No matter how gentle he is with others, there are moments when he is powerless.


    In the book, Yu Xiangwan is a character who walks the line between good and evil, willing to do whatever it takes to achieve his goals. Yet, after Sheng Quan helps him overcome a crisis, he immediately shows a deep sense of stubborn loyalty and complete obedience.


    It¡¯s as if he¡¯s a wolf-dog that has finally recognized its master.


    Today, Sheng Quan had a bit to drink, and her mind began to wander. Though outwardly, she only showed a slight blush on her cheeks.


    Despite this, Yu Xiangwan insisted on escorting her to her room, poured her a glass of warm water, and watched as she sat on the bed. Then, he pulled something out of his bag and began scanning the room.


    Sheng Quan asked curiously, ¡°What¡¯s that?¡±


    ¡°A detector,¡± Yu Xiangwan replied, moving around the room while turning to smile at her. ¡°Some people install hidden cameras in hotel rooms. This detector is borrowed from a friend¡ªit can detect if there are any cameras.¡±


    Sheng Quan suddenly remembered. She had seen news reports about small hotels secretly recording guests. In her past life, when she traveled for work, she would also use an app to check for cameras, just for peace of mind.


    Of course, her luxurious suite, which cost 188,000 yuan per night, wouldn¡¯t have such issues. But now that she was staying in a different hotel, it hadn¡¯t crossed her mind.


    In her past life, people usually used apps or their phones to detect cameras. This was the first time Sheng Quan had seen someone use professional equipment.


    She leaned in to take a closer look at the detector in Yu Xiangwan¡¯s hand. ¡°You can even borrow something like this?¡±


    Seeing her curiosity, Yu Xiangwan handed it to her for a better look. He explained, ¡°Some extreme fans install cameras in celebrities¡¯ homes or the hotels they stay in, so these detectors are quite common in the industry.¡±


    But Sheng Quan wasn¡¯t a celebrity. The fact that he had thought to bring this showed how much he prioritized her safety and privacy.


    Just for this, Sheng Quan felt that the money she had spent on Yu Xiangwan was well worth it.


    She even wondered if Yu Xiangwan¡¯s favorability meter toward her had already maxed out. Honestly, instant max favorability seemed almost impossible with anyone else, but with Yu Xiangwan, it made perfect sense.


    If it weren¡¯t for the mystery surrounding Yu Xiangwan¡¯s moral compass, he would have been her first choice for sponsorship. After all, both his favorability and abilities were exceptional.


    She smiled and praised him, ¡°You¡¯re so meticulous. I¡¯ll give you a bonus.¡±


    Yu Xiangwan shook his head. ¡°No need for a bonus. This is just part of my job.¡±


    ¡°Nonsense. You¡¯re so capable¡ªof course, you deserve a bonus. I¡¯ll give it to you next month.¡±


    Why next month? Because most of this month¡¯s funds had been spent on building her image as a wealthy socialite.


    The entertainment industry in this world wasn¡¯t too different from the one in her past life¡ªmoney ruled everything.


    With enough money, you could get directors, screenwriters, and celebrities to do anything.


    She wasn¡¯t just making a one-time investment; she planned to stay and develop her influence here. Though this was only her first task, there were many more to come, and establishing herself as a wealthy figure was crucial.


    A real tycoon wouldn¡¯t need to be so deliberate¡ªthey¡¯d already have connections and resources. But Sheng Quan didn¡¯t have that luxury.


    Only by flaunting her wealth could she ensure smooth sailing for her future plans.


    Most importantly, the book had mentioned that Yan Hui had made enemies during this period. If Sheng Quan, as Yan Hui¡¯s ¡®backer,¡¯ didn¡¯t appear strong and affluent, how could she intimidate those people?


    As she thought about all this, Sheng Quan¡¯s eyes grew heavy. She was exhausted. Thankfully, she hadn¡¯t worn makeup today, so she didn¡¯t have to get up to remove it. With her first reliable subordinate by her side, she could finally sleep in peace.


    Before drifting off, Sheng Quan mumbled to Yu Xiangwan, ¡°Study hard and gain experience. I¡¯m counting on you to keep an eye on ''The Path of Life'' for me. Once you¡¯ve learned enough, come work at my company. Oh, and don¡¯t forget to wake me up tomorrow for Yan Hui¡¯s audition...¡±


    Before she could finish, she was already asleep.


    Yu Xiangwan turned to respond but was surprised to see Sheng Quan sleeping soundly.


    As a grown man, he knew that a woman like Sheng Quan falling asleep with him still in the room was a sign of immense trust.


    This was the first time in his life that someone had trusted him so completely.


    Yu Xiangwan stepped forward and gently pulled the blanket over Sheng Quan. He didn¡¯t even notice the softening of his usually dark and brooding eyes.


    His gratitude toward Sheng Quan was beyond words. Before deciding to sell himself, he had prepared for the worst.


    But in the end, Sheng Quan had only asked him to work normally.


    She had even said she trusted his abilities.


    Yu Xiangwan felt an indescribable surge of emotions in his heart. He wanted to express his gratitude, but he felt that actions would speak louder than words.


    In the end, the young man, who had once been described in books as "ruthless and cold-hearted," softened his voice and made a gentle promise to the sleeping girl:


    "As you wish."


    ***


    The next day, Sheng Quan was awakened by Yu Xiangwan''s surprisingly gentle knock on her door.


    She yawned and got up to open the door. "What time is it?"


    "Ten-thirty. The audition is at one in the afternoon," Yu Xiangwan replied, glancing at his watch. "Breakfast will be here in half an hour."


    Sheng Quan nodded. "Alright, I¡¯ll take a shower first."


    As she checked the time, she noticed yet another of Yu Xiangwan¡¯s strengths.


    He was excellent at managing time. If she showered, did her skincare routine, and had breakfast before leaving, they would arrive at around twelve-fifty.


    Sheng Quan was certain that Yu Xiangwan had anticipated her need for a shower before coming to wake her up. How he had figured it out, she had no idea.


    When they got into the car, Sheng Quan noticed a faint herbal scent, similar to the fragrance of her shampoo. Clearly, Yu Xiangwan had realized she didn¡¯t like the car¡¯s original scent from the day before.


    It had to be said, being cared for with such meticulous attention was incredibly comforting. Sheng Quan was thoroughly pleased and silently decided to increase Yu Xiangwan¡¯s pay grade.


    She was also genuinely curious about the salary of the driver upfront, as she was already contemplating poaching him in the future.


    Yes, the driver assigned to her by the hotel.


    The hotel¡¯s service was truly ahead of its time. Even when Sheng Quan was "on a business trip," the driver could accompany her, with the hotel covering his airfare.


    The reason she wanted to poach him was simple: he was an incredibly dedicated driver. He never spoke unnecessarily but was always there to help when she needed it. Whether she was eating a pancake in the car or when Yu Xiangwan had made that shocking remark about "sending someone to warm her bed," the driver had remained unfazed, quietly focused on his job.


    Most importantly, Sheng Quan only found out that morning that the driver had left his door wide open all night.


    This meant that if anyone had tried to approach her room, he would have known immediately.


    No one had asked him to do it¡ªhe had taken on the role of a bodyguard on his own.


    Over the past few days, Sheng Quan, who had initially been unaccustomed to having a driver, had completely changed her mind.


    She also realized that she needed more people around her. After all, this wasn¡¯t her past life anymore. Regardless of her internal struggles, she now appeared to be a wealthy person on the surface. Even if it wasn¡¯t for handling tasks, her personal safety required some level of protection.


    Of course, she kept these thoughts to herself for now. After all, she could still take advantage of the system¡¯s benefits. Why not make the most of it while she could?


    Sheng Quan made a mental note of this.


    Right now, the most important thing was Yan Hui.


    He was the beneficiary of this mission, and whether she continued to rely on the system¡¯s perks or gained more financial freedom in the future depended on him.


    ***


    Yan Hui did come.


    He didn¡¯t hesitate for long. Packing just a couple of clothes, he bought the cheapest hard-seat ticket available. With a transfer along the way, it took him a total of twenty-three hours to arrive.


    It all boiled down to one thing: saving money.


    By the time he reached the film set, his exhaustion was evident, but he forced himself to stay alert.


    The long journey hadn¡¯t made Yan Hui anxious. Instead, it made him cherish this opportunity even more. He had always known that effort didn¡¯t always guarantee reward, but since he had already put in the effort, he was determined to do everything in his power to make the most of it.


    On the train, he finished reading the original novel of *The Path of Life*. The first read-through was to understand the story, but from the second time onward, he began to deeply analyze the character of Qin Heng and how other characters perceived him. Late at night, when fewer people were using the restroom, he hid inside and practiced his expressions in front of the mirror.


    To be honest, Yan Hui wasn¡¯t entirely sure why he had come. Perhaps it was for that tiny glimmer of hope.


    If he could land this role, the pay would be a significant sum.


    And deep down, there was still a lingering sense of hope.


    Even though he had always struggled to achieve the life he wanted...


    What if, just this once, things worked out?


    The film crew had been surprisingly accommodating, even sending him the script in advance, which had raised his hopes a little more.


    Truthfully, Yan Hui had barely slept during the journey. The few hours of rest he got were only because he knew he had to force himself to sleep.


    His exhaustion was visible, but the moment he was led into the studio by the crew, Yan Hui¡¯s posture straightened instantly.


    This was Yan Hui. Once he made up his mind, no matter how difficult things were, he would present his best self and give it his all.


    Yan Hui, with a heart full of nervousness, looked ahead, preparing to introduce himself to the casting director. As he raised his eyes, he saw Sheng Quan sitting right in the center, propping her chin with her hand and smiling softly at him.


    The young man¡¯s gentle gaze flickered with surprise... Was it her?

 Chapter 6

    It turns out that Yan Hui''s ability to amass a large fanbase through *Starlight* was no coincidence. Even though he was momentarily taken aback upon seeing Sheng Quan, he quickly suppressed his surprise and focused entirely on the audition.


    This was Sheng Quan''s first time witnessing an actor''s audition process in person.


    Yan Hui''s demeanor transformed the moment he began his performance. His gentle smile turned sharp and ambitious, and the softness in his eyes instantly chilled. He strode forward with purpose, seemingly moving ahead, yet all the while subtly observing his surroundings. Not a single rustle could escape his notice. He was like a sharp gust of wind¡ªalways spirited, unyielding, and cutting through all evil.


    Righteous, resolute, and unwavering.


    Sheng Quan''s eyes lit up as she watched, her body leaning forward in her chair, captivated. Having read the original novel, she felt as though she were seeing the character ''Qin Heng'' come to life¡ªyouthful, just, and imbued with a tender reliability that made him instantly trustworthy.


    Before Sheng Quan could speak, Wan Bao, sitting beside her, couldn''t contain his excitement and exclaimed, "Bravo!!!"


    He was like an enthusiastic cheerleader, his praises flowing effortlessly: "Amazing performance! That''s exactly the vibe I was looking for. This is the feeling I wanted!"


    Wan Bao was genuinely thrilled.


    Although the role had been "sold" to an outsider, every director secretly dreams of the scenario where the investor''s choice turns out to be a talented actor rather than a mere pretty face. Even though they all know the odds of such a dream coming true are practically zero.


    People tend to be kind to themselves, and Wan Bao had seen many actors work tirelessly to hone their craft when they had no backing. But once they secured a safety net, things often changed.


    Thus, the consensus had become: "An investor''s pick usually means a beautiful yet talentless addition, or sometimes not even beautiful." The dream of "getting a skilled actor funded by an investor" remained just that¡ªa dream.


    But now, the dream had come true!


    Wan Bao was over the moon.


    And with Sheng Quan, the big investor, sitting right beside him, praising Yan Hui was essentially a compliment to her impeccable taste. With a million-dollar investment at stake, Wan Bao had no qualms about lavishing praise.


    Sheng Quan didn''t perceive Wan Bao''s enthusiasm as mere flattery because Yan Hui had truly captured the essence of Qin Heng''s character and gaze.


    Having fallen in love with the original novel *The Path of Life*, Sheng Quan was eager to see Yan Hui perform one of Qin Heng''s iconic scenes from the book.


    But Sheng Quan quickly regained her composure.


    After all, she was no longer the keyboard warrior from her past life, where all she had to do was talk big without any real responsibility.


    Now, she was the big investor whose words could turn dreams into reality.


    Sheng Quan flipped through the book to a chapter she had revisited multiple times: "Chapter Seven, the scene where Qin Heng rescues Su Zhi. Can you perform that?"


    She wasn''t familiar with the formalities of auditions or the technical jargon, but that didn''t matter because, at this moment, she was the one in charge.


    As expected, no one in the room objected to Sheng Quan''s request. Wan Bao gestured, and someone immediately handed the book to Yan Hui.


    Yan Hui didn''t refuse. "Give me a minute," he said.


    After quickly skimming through the chapter, he set the book aside and slipped back into character. The moment he delivered his first line, Wan Bao knew Yan Hui had studied the original work extensively and had rehearsed this scene multiple times, either physically or in his mind.


    The scene involved a character being abducted by a human trafficker. When the police questioned the trafficker, he answered smoothly, leaving no room for suspicion. Everyone, including passersby, believed him. But as they passed by, Qin Heng suddenly apprehended the trafficker.


    What seemed like a straightforward scene in the book was described with such a sense of security that Qin Heng''s character was instantly solidified. However, translating the sharpness, meticulousness, and overwhelming sense of safety from the text to a live performance was no easy feat.


    Yet Yan Hui pulled it off¡ªgiving it his all, holding nothing back.


    Even without a co-actor, he convincingly acted out the fight scene. Sheng Quan didn''t know how others felt, but she was completely immersed in the moment.


    Finally, Yan Hui fell backward onto the ground with a heavy thud¡ªa real fall, no half-measures. He maintained his character''s intensity, veins popping on his forehead, hands still gripping the "trafficker," using his entire body to restrain the imaginary foe while his eyes sought out "Su Zhi," ensuring her safety.


    The performance was deeply moving.


    It radiated an overwhelming sense of security.


    Sheng Quan was instantly captivated¡ªnot just by Yan Hui''s acting, but also by his evident determination to seize this opportunity with everything he had.


    If this had been her past life, she would have nurtured such a dedicated subordinate. But now...


    Sheng Quan stood up, walked over, and crouched down beside Yan Hui, who was still lying on the ground, catching his breath after the intense physical exertion. She extended her hand to him:


    "Congratulations, the role is yours."


    Though he had sensed it from the reactions around him, hearing the words aloud still felt surreal to Yan Hui.


    Despite all the effort and preparation he had poured into this moment, his first thought was: *Did I really just land this role?*


    No questions about his popularity, no consideration of his background¡ªjust pure talent. Had he really been chosen like this?


    Yan Hui was momentarily stunned, his gaze fixed on the hand extended toward him. Its owner smiled warmly, her eyes brimming with undisguised admiration.


    Hesitating, he slowly reached out. Just as he was about to grasp her hand, he remembered the dust on his palms from the "fight" and instinctively tried to pull back. But Sheng Quan leaned forward, firmly clasping his hand in a confident grip.


    Yan Hui, still somewhat disheveled from rolling on the ground, looked up and met the radiant smile of the girl before him:


    "Mr. Yan, your qualities are exceptional. I formally invite you to join Starlight Entertainment."


    ***


    "Signing with Starlight Entertainment? I''ve never heard of this company. It''s not another shady outfit like Huafan, is it? Yan Hui, you need to stay calm! Last time we signed a contract, we were young and naive, but this time, if you''re serious about signing, you absolutely must review the contract thoroughly to make sure there are no traps. You haven''t signed yet, have you? Send me the contract, and I''ll take a close look at it for you!"


    "Don''t fall for that ''opportunity knocks but once'' nonsense they might throw at you. Big decisions like this require careful thought and time. The more they rush you, the more it benefits them, not you! If your uncle needs money, I can scrape something together. Don''t let desperation lead you to make a hasty decision!"


    Yan Hui listened to his lawyer friend''s impassioned rant over the phone, amused by the urgency in his voice, as though he were ready to fly over and physically restrain him.


    "You know me¡ªI''m not impulsive. I haven''t signed anything yet. They''ve given me three days to think it over. I called you so you could help me review the contract."


    His friend, who had been pacing, finally relaxed and sat back down. "True, you''re not one to rush into things. Alright, send it over, and I''ll take a look. I''ve gotten pretty good at reviewing contracts these days. I''ll go through it during this endless meeting. Seriously, how do they find so many meetings to schedule every day?"


    Yan Hui sent the contract over. About twenty minutes later, as he was deep in thought, his phone buzzed repeatedly with notifications. He opened it to find a flurry of messages from his lawyer friend:


    **[Holy cow!]**


    **[I just finished reading it. The terms are incredibly fair and straightforward.]**


    **[Is the owner of this Starlight Entertainment a rookie who hasn''t learned how to exploit people yet?]**


    **[I can''t find a single issue with it.]**


    **[Am I missing something?]**


    **[Wait, I''ll ask my supervisor to take a look. He''s a seasoned pro¡ªno one can pull a fast one on him. He''ll spot anything fishy.]**


    **[Hang tight, I''ll call you after the meeting to discuss in detail.]**


    Yan Hui wasn''t surprised by this outcome at all.


    It might have been because of the admiring look Sheng Quan gave him, or perhaps it was her straightforward statement: "I think you''re very talented, so I want to help you become famous and make money for me. It''s a win-win for both of us."


    Yan Hui had been rejected too many times, but Sheng Quan, from the very first meeting until now, had always looked at him with pure admiration in her eyes.


    She even recommended him to a film crew, and only after he secured the role did she mention wanting to sign him. She even gave him three days to think it over. Yan Hui could tell that Sheng Quan was confident he would sign.


    This confidence stemmed from the transparency in their communication and the contract.


    After a while, the phone call came as expected.


    His friend was still excited, but this time it was a happy kind of excitement: "Our director also said this contract is quite fair. There''s no ambiguity, the termination conditions aren''t harsh, the salary is on the higher side, and there are no hidden traps. It''s rare to see such a fair contract in your industry."


    "Is the boss new to the industry? If the company''s resources aren''t too bad, I suggest you sign it. Having a company is always better than struggling on your own, and you''ll even get a salary. How great is that?"


    There was another layer his friend didn''t mention, but Yan Hui understood.


    As soon as he signed this contract, his current predicament would be instantly alleviated. Whether it was the salary, the promised benefits, it all seemed tailor-made for Yan Hui at this moment.


    This contract had clearly been prepared long ago, and Yan Hui couldn''t help but think that Sheng Quan had intended to sign him from their very first meeting.


    His friend continued to ramble: "A contract that''s too shady is definitely not good, but this one is too good. It makes me a bit uneasy. Do you think the company boss has some ulterior motive? Is the boss male or female? Could they be interested in you? Maybe they want to sign you to take advantage of you? I remember someone tried to do that before, and when you refused, they made things difficult for you. I hope it''s not that kind of situation again."


    Yan Hui didn''t even have time to think before he blurted out: "She''s not that kind of person."


    His friend pressed: "How do you know? What if she is?"


    "I''ve already decided to sign. Don''t worry." Yan Hui couldn''t provide any concrete evidence, but that didn''t stop him from being firm in his judgment. His voice was always gentle, and when he spoke about Sheng Quan, it softened even more: "Ms. Sheng is a good person, and she''s still young... It''s clear she wants to focus on her career. She''s not the type to judge people by their looks."


    ***


    The boss who didn''t judge people by their looks, Sheng Quan, was very busy.


    To show her respect for Zhou Zhi, the male lead who was filming a rain scene in a white shirt that revealed his well-defined muscles, she silently took off her sunglasses as she passed by.


    After standing there and watching intently for a full two minutes, the esteemed investor gave her evaluation: "This physique is quite accurate. Not bad."


    Yu Xiangwan, who was standing beside her and jotting something down, closed his notebook. He glanced at Zhou Zhi, who was currently being drenched with water by the director, looking like a wet golden retriever: "If you like..."


    "Stop right there!" Sheng Quan didn''t even need to hear the rest to know what he was about to say. "This is purely appreciation, the green kind. Don''t always think in such strange directions."


    "Understood," Yu Xiangwan replied promptly, then went back to scribbling in his notebook.


    The next day, Sheng Quan saw a set of newly installed fitness equipment in the film set, along with several lead actors who had already changed into workout clothes and were diligently exercising.


    Sheng Quan: "?"


    She immediately turned to look at Yu Xiangwan, who was following her.


    The producer, Yu Xiangwan, explained: "Since more than six actors need to show off their physiques in the series, and to meet the filming requirements, after discussing with Director Wan, I purchased some fitness equipment and hired a coach. We expect them to achieve the desired results within a month and a half at the latest."


    Sheng Quan reluctantly accepted his explanation, even though Yu Xiangwan had placed the fitness equipment right across from her temporary room.


    Yes, Sheng Quan was also staying at the film set. On the night she mentioned wanting to stay for a few days, Yu Xiangwan, who had just arrived at the set, quickly arranged a room for her¡ªclean, tidy, and even with a bouquet of flowers that had her favorite scent.


    It had to be said, although the reason Yu Xiangwan placed the fitness equipment across from her room was quite intriguing, Sheng Quan''s mood was still quite pleasant every time she opened the curtains and saw several very attractive lead actors working out diligently.


    And then she appreciated Yan Hui even more.


    Lin Aike and Zhou Zhi sometimes couldn''t resist indulging in snacks, and occasionally tried to slack off during workouts, but Yan Hui never missed a session. He even took the initiative to exercise on his own.


    When he wasn''t filming, Yan Hui always gave off a soft, gentle vibe, but when he was focused on something, he really resembled ''Qin Heng,'' with a kind of resilient clarity, like a young poplar tree.


    As Sheng Quan watched, she unabashedly snapped several photos.


    Hearing the sound, Yan Hui turned around and saw Sheng Quan taking pictures of him. Sheng Quan was completely unashamed, smiling at him and complimenting him without hesitation: "I feel like you''re getting more and more handsome."


    Yan Hui''s cheeks turned slightly red, and he lowered his head with an embarrassed smile.


    He was always gentle, his gaze soft and tender. Even knowing Sheng Quan was taking pictures, he still allowed her to keep snapping away.


    Seeing her host so captivated by beauty, the system grew anxious: ¡¾Host, there are only twenty-six days left. Yan Hui still has zero public recognition. You''ve already spent a lot of time.¡¿


    Sheng Quan opened a group chat on her phone, still calm and unhurried: ¡¾By the way, 006, do you know what my first job was in my past life?¡¿


    006 really didn''t know.


    Sheng Quan: ¡¾Promotion planning.¡¿


    ¡¾Promoting people, that''s my expertise.¡¿


    ¡ªHer fingers flew across the screen as she uploaded the photos she had just taken to the group she had just opened: "Girls! Does he look enough like Qin Heng?"


    This group was a reader group for the original novel *The Path of Life*. Although the novel wasn''t a massive hit, it had a loyal fanbase, and the group had several hundred members.


    Just like the various reader and fan groups Sheng Quan had joined in her past life, everyone chatted about everything under the sun. She blended in effortlessly, feeling as if she had returned to her happy place.


    The girls in the group were in the middle of a lively discussion when suddenly a photo of a handsome guy popped up. They immediately expressed their thoughts politely and eloquently.


    ¡¾Damn! He''s absolutely stunning!¡¿


    ¡¾Those pecs... I''d love to bury my face in them!¡¿


    ¡¾He really gives off Qin Heng vibes, especially when he looks over like that.¡¿


    ¡¾Oh my god, is this a figurine come to life? Look at those long legs!¡¿


    ¡¾@VictoryIsAssured, why are you sneaking photos of my husband? I''m reporting you for assaulting an officer!¡¿


    Sheng Quan had expected this kind of reaction and continued typing: ¡¾You all think he''s a good fit, right? Then I can confidently let him take the role.¡¿


    The girls laughed and joked along, thinking Sheng Quan was just having fun: ¡¾Let him act! Make him do eighty scenes without stopping!¡¿


    ¡¾By the way, who is this guy? I''ve never seen him before.¡¿


    VictoryIsAssured: ¡¾His name is Yan Hui. He''s the guy I mentioned meeting at the pancake stall last time. I just signed him, and now I''m bringing him to the set to play Qin Heng. I''m so excited~¡¿


    Everyone in the group knew that the original actor set to play Qin Heng had left the production. They didn''t know the specifics, as neither the original novel nor the production team were well-known. They only knew about the departure because the official production team had announced it.


    This statement was also taken as a joke, especially since Sheng Quan followed it up with: ¡¾I invested ten million in the production. I refuse to believe they can''t bring Qin Heng to life with that kind of money.¡¿


    Ten million?


    Hahahahaha, anyone could tell this was just a playful exaggeration.


    Someone immediately posted a photo of a newly debuted idol: ¡¾What a coincidence! I just signed one too. His monthly salary is twenty million. Check out that face!¡¿


    VictoryIsAssured: ¡¾Isn''t that a bit expensive? My guy only gets five thousand a month. Aren''t actors supposed to earn through roles, with salaries just being a formality?¡¿


    The girl who posted the idol photo was laughing in real life as she typed, spinning all sorts of nonsense: ¡¾Not expensive at all! Good looks are worth every penny!¡¿


    VictoryIsAssured: ¡¾I see. I''m new to this industry, so I''m still learning.¡¿


    Others followed suit, posting photos of various handsome guys, and someone even posted a 2D character:


    ¡¾I signed this one last month. He''s alright, just a bit young.¡¿


    ¡¾Check out mine. He''s a thousand years old this year, very mature.¡¿


    ¡¾A thousand years old is still too young, look at me, I''m ten thousand years old¡¿


    ¡¾What are you guys talking about? Check out my newly signed paramecium, too bad it died just 24 hours after signing¡¿


    The conversation gradually veered off track, quickly shifting from "paramecium" to "why haven''t mosquitoes gone extinct yet" and then to "what are we eating tonight."


    By evening, a group member noticed that the official blog had posted an announcement and immediately took a screenshot to share in the group.


    ¡¾The best Qin Heng, the best you @Yan Hui¡¿


    Under the official blog post, some original book fans left comments, all quite normal, asking who this person was, why they had never seen them before, and hoping that the acting would be good since the person looked quite attractive.


    But the group members were completely baffled.


    ¡¾?¡¿


    ¡¾???¡¿


    ¡¾Isn''t this the same person from this morning??¡¿


    Immediately, a group member turned detective and searched through ''Sheng Quan''s'' past messages. Upon seeing them, she was even more shocked and quickly took screenshots to share in the group.


    Key sentences from Sheng Quan''s past messages were picked out and arranged like this¡ª


    Five days ago, Sheng Quan: ¡¾OMG! I just went to buy a pancake and saw a guy who looks just like Qin Heng! I want him to play the role!!¡¿


    Group members: What guy? Post a picture, no picture no truth, let''s all see the handsome guy~


    Three days ago, Sheng Quan: ¡¾I''m going to invest in the ''Life''s Journey'' crew and sign the handsome pancake guy to play Qin Heng. Let''s see who dares to ruin the original story.¡¿


    Group members: Let''s go together, crowdfund the investment and become the bosses! Everyone chips in 50 cents, and we''ll rent out the pancake stall!


    Today, Sheng Quan: ¡¾I invested 10 million in the crew and signed the pancake guy to play Qin Heng¡¿


    Then that evening, the legendary pancake guy was officially announced to play Qin Heng.


    The group started frantically @ing Sheng Quan. At that moment, Sheng Quan was enjoying a relaxing bath with a face mask on (Yu Xiangwan had even gotten her a big bathtub). Hearing her phone buzzing incessantly, she picked it up and smiled.


    Sheng Quan: ¡¾Yeah, didn''t I tell you guys earlier today?¡¿


    After a few seconds of silence, the group exploded.


    Everyone was just joking around, but you actually went and did it?!

 Chapter 7

    A popular microblogger named "Riding a Little Donkey" posted a blog a few days ago: ¡¾What¡¯s the most outrageous thing you¡¯ve ever encountered?¡¿


    This is a common tactic used by influencers to attract followers. Even if the topic doesn¡¯t go viral, it can still encourage fans to actively comment. Once the number of comments under the post reaches a certain level, the blogger selects the most outrageous and eye-catching comments, screenshots them, arranges them into a nine-square grid, and creates a new post full of highlights.


    The strategy itself is sound. The problem is that "Riding a Little Donkey" has recently seen a decline in traffic, with the number of fan comments dropping sharply. It¡¯s been almost a week, and he¡¯s only managed to gather a little over two thousand comments.


    People love to flock to popular posts. The more viral a post is, the more eager people are to comment. Conversely, the quieter a post is, even if someone stumbles upon it while scrolling, they¡¯re less likely to leave a comment or hit the like button.


    This lukewarm situation has left "Riding a Little Donkey" feeling helpless. Nevertheless, he still opens the comment section, going through each comment one by one, trying to find the nine most explosive ones among the two thousand or so comments.


    In real life, "Riding a Little Donkey" is named Wu Yun. An ordinary name, an ordinary appearance. He doesn¡¯t know how other influencers made it big, but he¡¯s well aware of his own situation. He doesn¡¯t have a natural sense of humor, nor does he have the confidence that comes from being well-read. All he can do is strive to do his best, to put in the utmost effort, and to improve the quality of his posts as much as possible to attract attention.


    For example, right now, with over two thousand comments, Wu Yun is reading through them while taking screenshots and making detailed notes. His notes are categorized by factors such as popularity, how engaging the comment is, the likelihood of making people laugh, whether it has the potential to go viral, and if the potential is significant enough, and so on.


    When his eyes start to hurt, he takes a break, then continues. Because of the extensive note-taking, Wu Yun has been at it from 9 PM until 2 AM. Even though, as a freelancer, he¡¯s used to staying up late, it¡¯s well-known that staying up late playing games is very different from staying up late working.


    Wu Yun is completely drained. His state of mind has shifted from ¡°The moon doesn¡¯t sleep, I don¡¯t sleep, I¡¯m a diligent little treasure¡± to ¡°I want to cultivate immortality, see you in the ICU.¡± But procrastination is a major taboo in his line of work. Although he really wants to stop and rest, he knows that if he stops, he won¡¯t be sleeping¡ªhe¡¯ll just be procrastinating and fooling around. So, he grits his teeth and keeps working.


    It¡¯s in this half-conscious state that a long comment with an attached image suddenly catches his eye.


    A user named "A Flower by the Roadside" commented: ¡¾I¡¯ve got to speak up on this one! I never leave comments, but today I just have to share this! It¡¯s too long, so I¡¯ve put it in a memo and attached a screenshot! You¡¯ll understand once you read it! It¡¯s seriously outrageous!¡¿


    The screenshot reads: ¡¾Here¡¯s what happened. I love reading novels, and there¡¯s one novel I absolutely adore. I joined the reader group for it, and everyone in the group chats and jokes around every day, which is pretty fun. The novel is being adapted into a TV series, and we¡¯re all worried it might ruin the original story. Our joking around turned into a discussion about crowdfunding the series¡ªlike, everyone pitching in 50 cents to pick the actors they want for the roles. There¡¯s this really lively girl in the group who¡¯s always super vocal about it. Let¡¯s call her S.


    S¡¯s favorite character in the book is a guy named Qin, and she¡¯s always calling him ¡°Brother Qin.¡± The actor originally cast to play Qin had to drop out due to scheduling conflicts, and S got really worried. Since filming had already started, she was afraid the production team would just pick someone random and ruin Brother Qin¡¯s image.


    Here¡¯s the kicker! One day, she said she saw a guy at a pancake stall who looked just like Brother Qin. We all egged her on to get his WeChat. Two days later, during our crowdfunding jokes, S joked that she had invested 10 million and the production team agreed to let her pick the actor for Brother Qin. We all joked along, but no one took it seriously.


    Then, two days after that, S suddenly posted a photo of a handsome guy asking if he looked like Brother Qin. She said it was the pancake stall guy, and she had signed him. We all thought it was just a random photo she found online, so we played along and said he looked like Brother Qin. She then said in a relieved tone: ¡°Then he¡¯s the one. The director said the pancake guy is a great actor. I¡¯m sure he can capture Brother Qin¡¯s essence.¡±


    Sounds like a normal joke, right? But here¡¯s the twist!! That very night!! The production team officially announced that the pancake stall guy would be playing Brother Qin!!


    And the craziest part? Before this, the pancake stall guy was a complete nobody. No one had ever heard of him!! Which means S had to be telling the truth to get that photo!


    We were all stunned!!


    Everyone started frantically tagging S. When she finally responded, she was just as confused, saying she had been updating us all along. She even said it was her first time signing someone, so she had been asking for advice.


    Outrageous, right? Outrageous!! We were all just joking, but she went ahead and did it for real!


    And¡ªwe were even seriously advising her on how much to pay the actor, telling her the salary she offered the pancake guy was too low. Ahhh!! Is this the difference between a rich fan and a regular fan like me? I¡¯m over here begging the director not to ruin the adaptation, while the rich fan drops 10 million to cast someone who perfectly fits the character.


    Ahhh, this is probably the most outrageous and envy-inducing thing I¡¯ve ever encountered! But I guess it¡¯s also lucky, because at least the book I love has S, a super fan, making sure it¡¯s done right. It¡¯s outrageous but also so satisfying hahahaha¡¿


    This comment is incredibly long, even as a screenshot in a memo. But Wu Yun¡¯s eyes light up as he reads it. He may not have the natural instinct for chasing trends that some influencers do, but after reading this lengthy screenshot, he can¡¯t help but feel a sense of vicarious satisfaction.


    Even though the protagonist isn¡¯t "A Flower by the Roadside," he still feels the thrill.


    He has a hunch that this comment could bring him massive traffic.


    With that thought, Wu Yun¡¯s spirits lift, and all traces of drowsiness vanish. He grabs a pen and starts analyzing:


    Hot topics: Entertainment industry, wealthy people


    Engaging points: Plot twist, wealthy fan protecting the original work


    Conflict: Original fans vs. adaptation


    Satisfaction level: 99%


    Wu Yun slams the pen down, his eyes gleaming. Based on his experience, this comment has all the makings of a viral hit. If he gives it a little push...


    ¡°Let¡¯s do it!!¡±


    The next day at noon, during peak traffic hours, Wu Yun, who had stayed up all night brainstorming and was now overly excited, uploads a new post.


    No nine-square grid this time¡ªjust this one long, detailed comment.


    The caption reads: I declare this the most outrageous comment of all. Just one question: Is this for real?


    Tempted by the potential for massive traffic, he abandons his usual cautious approach and decides to take a gamble. If he loses, he¡¯ll just waste a few days and some money. But if he wins, this explosive topic could bring him a huge surge in followers.


    After posting, he clicks on the promotion tab, grits his teeth, and spends money to boost the post.


    Once everything is set, Wu Yun feels less nervous. He tosses his phone aside and lies down to sleep.


    His sleep is restless, filled with nightmares. He dreams that the post he pinned his hopes on doesn¡¯t go viral at all. Instead, it¡¯s met with silence and harsh comments criticizing the declining quality of his content.


    Wu Yun wakes up at 10 PM, still feeling like he¡¯s in a dream. After a second, he bolts upright and grabs his phone to check the backend of his Weibo account.


    A few seconds later, deafening laughter fills the room.


    ¡°HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA¡ª¡±


    In the midst of his laughter, his mother, who keeps a regular schedule, yells from the next room: ¡°Wu Yun!!!!! It¡¯s the middle of the night! Do you want a beating?!!!!!¡±


    Wu Yun immediately clamps a hand over his mouth, but he can¡¯t help letting out a few quiet giggles.


    As he¡¯s giggling, Sheng Quan is also browsing "Riding a Little Donkey¡¯s" Weibo. She can¡¯t see the backend data, but the frontend stats are enough.


    This is the fastest-rising post in "Riding a Little Donkey¡¯s" history. In just ten hours, it¡¯s garnered an impressive number of clicks and comments. It¡¯s easy to imagine how much hotter it¡¯ll get after a few more days of fermentation.


    Sheng Quan taps her phone: ¡°The results are slightly worse than I expected.¡±


    Late at night, Yu Xiangwan was still working overtime, dressed impeccably. Every part of his outfit was neatly ironed, without a single wrinkle. Even his hair was meticulously styled, making him look all the more like a cultured yet cunning individual.


    He swiped to the PowerPoint presentation on his screen, which displayed various solutions: "If you want the hype to grow further, perhaps we could consider buying retweets. I''ve asked ten influencers related to this topic about their rates for reposting blog posts. Here''s the price list."


    "The price list for trending topics that you inquired about earlier is on this page. Based on past data analysis, it''s most appropriate to buy a spot around the 15th position for this kind of topic. It won''t seem too deliberate, and it can still attract a lot of traffic."


    That''s right, this was all orchestrated by Sheng Quan.


    Even the account "A Flower by the Roadside" was selected by Yu Xiangwan from his collection of alternate accounts. As for why someone as refined and meticulous as him would have an account called "A Flower by the Roadside"¡ªwell, who in this line of work doesn''t have a few throwaway accounts specifically for leaving comments?


    Perhaps because the entertainment industry''s ecosystem was slightly more harmonious than in Sheng Quan''s previous life, the methods for hyping up promotions were relatively limited. At the very least, the tactic Sheng Quan was using now had likely never been seen before.


    Even though her previous job wasn''t in entertainment promotion, as a professional "melon eater" (someone who follows celebrity gossip), the marketing strategies she had observed while indulging in gossip were more than enough for her needs.


    She felt that the results were a bit underwhelming, but Yu Xiangwan believed the outcome was already quite surprising. "Riding a Little Donkey" must be over the moon right now.


    In the entertainment industry, there''s such a thing as overnight fame, but that usually happens after a work has been released.


    Building a skyscraper without a foundation is, as you can imagine, incredibly difficult. No matter where you are, being noticed and liked always requires a reason, especially in the fiercely competitive entertainment industry, where beauty is abundant. Relying solely on looks isn''t enough.


    But Sheng Quan was determined to promote Yan Hui, who didn''t yet have a proper work to his name, and Yu Xiangwan was fully committed to supporting this endeavor. He said, "The current progress is already quite good. I suggest we let the hype simmer for a while before pushing further. The effect will be even better."


    Sheng Quan smiled. "You''re right. It''s better to take things step by step."


    She wasn''t in a hurry, but 006 was.


    "Host, time is running out for you."


    Sheng Quan remained calm. "Don''t worry. Everything needs a proper buildup. Do you watch dramas? I''ll turn on the TV for you."


    How could 006 not worry? It really liked its host. This was its first time being a system, and all its knowledge about systems was extracted from novels. But it had never seen a host in any novel quite like its own.


    Sheng Quan would chat with it, take it shopping for clothes, play TV dramas and movies for it, and sometimes even appreciate beautiful people together, ranting at the screen about the heartless scriptwriters.


    Sheng Quan had even lent her account to 006, giving it permission to post its own reviews online.


    So while Sheng Quan wasn''t in a hurry, 006 was. If it weren''t for the fact that 006 couldn''t take the next step on its own, it would have gladly opened a backdoor to extend Sheng Quan''s life, given how her lifespan was dwindling day by day.


    Unfortunately, it was Sheng Quan who had to complete the tasks. 006 couldn''t understand the complexities of human thinking. In its mind, why not just throw money at the problem? It''s not like the host was short on cash!


    Sheng Quan was quite skilled at calming 006 down. She took it out to watch a night shoot, and sure enough, 006 was soon completely absorbed in the beauty of the actors.


    Despite Wan Bao''s scruffy appearance, his aesthetic sense was truly exceptional. It''s just that he had never had the funds to fully realize his vision before. Now that he had sufficient resources, the first thing he did was hire several makeup artists and stylists, and all the main characters'' costumes were custom-made.


    Don''t get the wrong idea¡ªhe wasn''t aiming for high-end fashion. Instead, he tailored the outfits to fit the characters'' requirements, ensuring they not only matched the setting but also enhanced the characters'' charm within that framework.


    For example, Yan Hui''s character, Qin Heng, was a police officer. The custom-made police uniform was largely similar to those of the era in real life, but the details were adjusted according to Wan Bao''s vision. While the overall look was the same, when Yan Hui wore it, he looked undeniably handsome¡ªthe kind of handsome that perfectly matched the character''s righteous demeanor.


    Tonight''s scene was a farewell.


    When Sheng Quan and the others arrived, the soft, dim lighting illuminated the scene. A man in a crisp police uniform stood quietly, willow catkins drifting in the air above him. The light and shadows played across his face, conveying a gentle sadness.


    When he turned to look amidst the flurry of willow catkins, it was enough to tug at everyone''s heartstrings, including 006, who had a soft spot for beautiful people.


    Sheng Quan was also moved, but she was quickly brought back to reality by Wan Bao, who was watching the monitor while frantically gesturing to the crew to scatter more willow catkins.


    She thought to herself, "..."


    The scene was indeed beautiful, but it would have been even more perfect if not for the crew members standing on ladders, each holding a bag and tossing handfuls of willow catkins downward.


    "Cut¡ª"


    After Wan Bao happily called "cut," Qin Heng, who had just been "resilient yet tender, tender yet sorrowful," sneezed and quickly ran out of the flurry of willow catkins. He carefully removed his police uniform and then began patting and rubbing himself to deal with the irritation.


    Seeing him flustered, Sheng Quan quickly realized that the willow catkins had gotten inside his clothes.


    She stepped forward to help pat him down, but the costume and makeup crew, who had been about to assist, immediately backed off.


    The young investor was now the most important person on set. If she wanted to help personally, they weren''t going to get in her way. Rumor had it that Sheng Quan was a fan of the original novel, so who knew if she might develop feelings for the actor because of his role?


    Sheng Quan noticed Yan Hui''s arms were already turning red. "This won''t do. There''s too much. You should go take a shower."


    Yan Hui shook his head. "Thank you, Ms. Sheng, but I''ll pass. We have another scene coming up, and I need to use this time to get into character."


    What a tough guy. With the way the crew had been scattering the catkins, he must be itching all over. To endure that and still stay in character¡ªhe was truly a wolf (a play on the Chinese internet slang for someone who is exceptionally tough or ruthless).


    As Sheng Quan was thinking this, a willow catkin floated to her nose, and she couldn''t help but sneeze. This made her admire Yan Hui even more.


    She had only been exposed to a few catkins and already sneezed, but Yan Hui had been covered in them and still managed to deliver a flawless performance until the director called "cut."


    Seeing that he had caused Sheng Quan to sneeze, Yan Hui quickly took a few steps back. "Ms. Sheng, I''ll handle this myself. I don''t want the catkins to bother you."


    Before Sheng Quan could respond, a tall figure suddenly appeared in front of her.


    It was the quiet, burly driver. "Ms. Sheng, let me handle this."


    Without waiting for a reply, the driver stepped forward. Facing the stubborn willow catkins that would float back down no matter how many times they were brushed away, he pulled out what appeared to be a pet hair remover and began effortlessly picking the catkins off Yan Hui''s clothes.


    Sheng Quan thought to herself, "The driver is as reliable as ever... but why does a tall, silent driver have a pet hair remover?"


    Come to think of it, she had forgotten to assign an assistant to Yan Hui. After all, she wasn''t originally from this industry, so it was easy to overlook small details.


    When Sheng Quan was younger, she used to think it was cool for actors to have assistants. But as she grew older and became a "melon-eating" enthusiast, she gradually learned that most well-known actors had assistants. For actors with significant roles, not having an assistant could make daily life quite difficult. For example, if Yan Hui''s clothes were filled with willow catkins, it would be hard for him to deal with it alone.


    And this was just a modern drama. For period dramas, the wigs, heavy costumes, and other elements would make it even harder for actors to manage on their own. Add to that the challenges of filming winter scenes in summer and vice versa, maintaining a diet that differs from the crew''s, and so on, and the importance of an assistant becomes clear.


    While crew members would usually try to help if an actor didn''t have an assistant, not every crew was accommodating, and there were always moments when they couldn''t provide enough support. Even when they did, the crew was usually swamped with work, so it wasn''t fair to burden them with extra tasks.


    After understanding this, Sheng Quan immediately decided to get Yan Hui a few assistants. She couldn''t let such minor issues hinder his career development.


    Oh, and a manager too. Although her company was just starting out, as someone backed by a funding system and determined to make a mark in the entertainment industry, the company''s growth was inevitable.


    As for what kind of assistants and manager to hire, and the details of their salaries and benefits¡ªthose were trivial matters she didn''t need to worry about.


    Sheng Quan only needed to give the order, and Yu Xiangwan would naturally handle it for her.


    Yu Xiangwan''s efficiency was truly impressive. Sheng Quan had sent him a message late in the evening, and since he had previously worked on many film sets and had extensive connections, finding a few assistants who were competent, had suitable personalities, and met the salary requirements wasn''t difficult for him. By noon, he had already found three assistants¡ªtwo men and one woman¡ªeach with their own responsibilities, and had negotiated their salaries.


    Moreover, it seemed he had taken Sheng Quan''s preference for good looks into consideration. While the three assistants weren''t stunningly attractive, they were all quite pleasant-looking, the kind of people who make you feel comfortable just by looking at them.


    Since Sheng Quan had emphasized that quality was the priority and salary wasn''t an issue, after the contracts were signed, Yan Hui''s three assistants rushed over immediately. The latest one arrived by 9 p.m. that same night and jumped straight into work, following Yan Hui around during the night shoot, attentive and considerate, and incredibly enthusiastic.


    Yan Hui was overwhelmed by the attention. Even the female lead, Lin Aike, couldn''t help but feel a little envious: "Yan Hui, your company is treating you so well, sending you so many assistants, and they''re all so meticulous and dedicated."


    The three assistants thought to themselves: With salaries 20% higher than the industry average, how could they not be meticulous and dedicated?


    Besides, they weren''t personally contracted to Yan Hui but were instead employed by Starlight Company. Sheng Quan had also mentioned that they were still in the probation period, and once that was over, their salaries would increase. There would also be year-end bonuses, and they had full benefits, including social insurance and housing funds. In the underpaid and overworked world of celebrity assistants, landing such a stable and well-paying job was nothing short of a stroke of luck.


    In the real world, working professionals are pragmatic. With good pay, great benefits, and room for growth, only a fool wouldn''t give their best.


    With the three of them diligently taking care of him, Yan Hui, who had been overwhelmed by the intense filming schedule, quickly realized the benefits of having assistants. At the same time, he felt even more overwhelmed by the generosity.


    Yan Hui had always handled everything himself in the past. During winter shoots, after filming a scene where he fell into water, he had to walk a distance to find his clothes. In summer, even when heat rashes broke out, he had to endure until the shoot was over before tending to them. Even after being signed by Sheng Quan, he had already been incredibly grateful for the contract terms and had never imagined having assistants.


    After all, even Lin Aike only had one assistant, yet Sheng Quan had given him three in one go.


    Sheng Quan''s response to this was: "You need to understand that you''re an actor. Your time should be spent on your craft. These trivial matters aren''t for you to worry about. You just need to focus on improving yourself, and the company will handle the rest."


    ¡ªFocus on your career and don''t get distracted. Work hard and earn me those career points, young man~


    Yan Hui was momentarily stunned, and his already gentle eyes softened even further. Did Sheng Quan really trust his abilities so much?


    He responded softly, his heart filled with gratitude: "Alright, thank you, Sheng Quan. I''ll work hard."


    How could there be such a kind person?


    No suppression, no traps, just focusing on ability. As long as the actors performed well, everything else would be taken care of. This was almost like a dream company in the entertainment industry.


    When he called his mother that evening and she asked how he was doing on set, whether he was overworking himself and not getting enough sleep, and reminded him to take care of his health, Yan Hui, who had always been reserved, found himself talking more than usual.


    Everyone on set was very kind to him, his clothes were always clean, and the company had assigned him three assistants. All he had to do every day was focus on acting, which he loved, and he didn''t have to worry about anything else.


    "Sheng Quan said she''s signed me up for acting classes and physical training. Once this drama wraps up, I can start attending them. The company is already arranging my next project. They''re really investing in me, Mom. You don''t have to worry about money anymore. Sheng Quan said I can get an advance on my salary, so it''s definitely enough."


    "Good, good..." Yan Hui''s mother kept nodding on the other end of the line. "We''ve met a true benefactor. If only I hadn''t charged her for that pancake that day. Yan Hui, they''re investing so much in you. You must repay them properly, understand? Don''t be like those celebrities in the news who jump ship as soon as they become famous. Sheng Quan might not care, but we must remember this kindness."


    "Don''t worry, Mom. I remember."


    Yan Hui didn''t say much more to his mother. He was a reserved person, and even if he felt immense gratitude, he wouldn''t express it in words but through actions.


    After hanging up, Yan Hui''s nose tingled with emotion, and he realized his eyes were slightly red in the mirror.


    He hadn''t cried during the countless hardships and moments of despair he''d endured over the past ten years, but now, tears had come.


    Yan Hui smiled as he wiped his eyes, recalling how Sheng Quan had laughed while helping him brush off willow catkins earlier that day. He then turned back to his script, practicing in front of the mirror.


    He was eager to repay Sheng Quan, to be as helpful to her as Yu Xiangwan was. But as an actor, all he could do was focus on his craft.


    Yan Hui forced himself to calm down and concentrate on his practice.


    Take it step by step, Yan Hui. As long as you work hard to improve and perform every role well, you''ll be able to bring value to Sheng Quan and repay her.


    Meanwhile, Sheng Quan, who was out enjoying a massage with her driver, heard a notification from the system:


    [Ding! Yan Hui''s favorability has exceeded 80. Note: The system will no longer announce favorability once it surpasses 80.]


    Sheng Quan took off her eye mask: [Wow, it seems Yan Hui really likes those three assistants. Not bad, not bad. Make a note to give them a bonus at the end of the year.]


    As she enjoyed her massage, she pulled out her phone.


    It was indeed a double celebration.


    On Weibo, the hashtag #WhatItFeelsLikeToHaveAFanWhoIsARichFanOfTheOriginalWork was also starting to gain traction.

 Chapter 8

    Anyone in promotion knows that it''s nearly impossible for something to smoothly climb to its peak without any bumps along the way. If people''s curiosity is satisfied right from the start, they might only be mildly interested for a short while before moving on.


    That''s why Sheng Quan didn''t release all the information at once.


    After the voices of skepticism arose, ¡¾Roadside Flower¡¿(Lubian Yizhihua) waited a day before posting screenshots from a group chat as proof, complete with timestamps. Other members of the group also shared their own evidence.


    Once it was confirmed to be true, the curiosity of netizens didn''t stop there. Their focus shifted to questions like: So, which novel is the original work? How handsome is the pancake stall guy? Which drama is this? Did they really invest ten million?


    From there, Sheng Quan didn''t need to do much. Naturally, some curious netizens turned into detectives, piecing together clues step by step with logic and reasoning, leaving the rest of the onlookers in awe.


    The scene quickly turned into a relay of digging deeper.


    Culiu Tudousi Chao Malingshu: Even though it''s censored, decoding it isn''t hard. First, there''s a popular character in the book with the surname Qin, referred to as "Brother Qin" by readers. Plus, the fact that the book was adapted into a drama and has such devoted fans means its success is undeniable. Also, the drama is still in production, and the actor originally set to play Brother Qin dropped out due to scheduling conflicts. The pancake stall guy was just announced as the new Brother Qin. If this is true, all you need to do is check the official Weibo of the production team.


    Light Pollution (Qingdu Wuran): ¡¾Found it. There are quite a few dramas in production right now, but only two have recently announced their cast. One announced the full cast, while the other only announced one actor, and the character he''s playing is surnamed Qin. The screenshot is below.¡¿


    With a direction in mind, the netizens automatically started looking for more evidence.


    Sure. This drama is an adaptation of the novel "Life Path." I went to the novel''s comment section, and readers who love Qin Heng all refer to him as "Brother Qin." It matches perfectly!


    Maomao Jiao Tianxia Diyi: ¡¾OMG! I can''t believe I stumbled upon this drama while catching up on gossip. I followed this novel, and Brother Qin is my favorite character! When I heard it was being adapted, I thought it would ruin the original work and swore I wouldn''t watch it. But if it''s this drama, it''s going to be a celebration for us original fans!¡¿


    aaa Xiangcai Pifa Luo Zong: ¡¾Celebration indeed! The investor is a fan of the original work. Who would dare ruin it?¡¿


    Cat''s Compass (Mao de Yuangui): As a book fan, I have to say, the rich lady has great taste. The guy she pushed into the drama really embodies Brother Qin''s vibe! When is this drama airing? I''m definitely watching!


    Every pound is five hundred grams (Mei Jin Wubai Ke): ¡¾I checked it out too. You can always trust the taste of the rich (dog head holding a rose.jpg).¡¿


    Usually, the idea of an investor pushing someone into a production would be met with disdain, but this case is completely different.


    Who wouldn''t want a devoted fan with deep pockets to oversee the entire production of their favorite novel?


    As the topic gained more traction, more and more people joined the discussion, and members from the readers'' group also started chiming in.


    Black Snail Noodle (Heise Luosifen): ¡¾I was in the group that day and witnessed the whole thing. At first, we all thought it was a joke. I even said I signed a contract with a paramecium (facepalm). But turns out, she was dead serious.¡¿


    Sun is my smd: ¡¾Same here. I even seriously taught the rich lady how to pay contracted artists. She seems young and said she was new to the industry and wanted to learn from me. I feel so guilty!¡¿


    These comments from the book fan group were quickly upvoted, with everyone in the replies laughing.


    Some meticulous netizens even went to the original novel''s comment section and found an account that might belong to the rich lady.


    How did they find it so quickly? Because they checked the fan leaderboard, and the top name was ¡¾Brother Qin is So Handsome He Breaks the Sky¡¿. Although it didn''t match the name in the book fan group, this user had left gifts in every chapter featuring Qin Heng.


    Each gift was worth no less than a thousand, and in Chapter 7, the gift was as high as thirty thousand¡ªnot in book currency, but in real RMB.


    She tallied up all the gifts from this account: ¡¾Eighty-nine thousand! She spent eighty-nine thousand just on gifts!¡¿


    The onlookers were deeply envious: ¡¾Is this what the world of the wealthy is like?¡¿


    ¡¾Is it too late to start writing a book now? Does the lady need a human accessory? I have a college degree, can cook, and know how to use the bathroom.¡¿


    ¡¾She spends eighty-nine thousand on gifts for a novel she loves and then drops ten million to ensure the drama adaptation doesn''t ruin it. What kind of dream life is this? I''m so jealous I can''t even say it anymore.¡¿


    ¡¾OMG!!! I''m a lemon right now! Having had so many of my favorite novels ruined, I just want the lady to check out my reading list.¡¿


    ¡¾Wait, there''s more! The rich lady seems to be on her seventh reread, still throwing money around! This is history in the making!¡¿


    ¡¾The original author must be over the moon! Her book has a rich fan throwing money at it, the IP was sold, the investor is a fan, and now so many people are flocking to read it. If the drama becomes a hit, her other works will surely sell too. What a stroke of luck! I''d love to interview the author and ask how she''s feeling right now.¡¿


    When Sheng Quan came across this comment, she paused. She, too, was curious about how the author of "The Journey of Life" felt. Would the author feel better after seeing the skyrocketing popularity and potential profits?


    Sheng Quan tapped the original copy of "Life''s Journey" in her hand: "I really love this book. It gives off such a warm feeling. After reading it, you can''t help but want to be a little kinder, even if it''s just a tiny bit."


    She put the book down: "You can tell the author is a good person."


    Yu Xiangwan asked, "Do you like her that much?"


    "Of course," Sheng Quan replied. "She''s much better than that author who creates amazing characters only to give them the worst endings, setting them up with the best potential but never letting them achieve anything. That kind of author is just cruel."


    Yes, she was talking about "Starlight." Even though she had already transmigrated, Sheng Quan still gritted her teeth every time she thought about that infuriating ending.


    Yu Xiangwan noticed Sheng Quan''s resentment and narrowed his eyes behind his gold-rimmed glasses: "Who''s that author?"


    Sheng Quan didn''t need to look to know what Yu Xiangwan was thinking. Others might not, but he would absolutely stay up all night to curse the author on her behalf: "No need to curse them for me. I''ve already done that."


    Although she died right after cursing them, it didn''t matter. The author might be heartless, but she could change that blood-boiling ending herself.


    At least now, because of her, someone''s life had changed for the better.


    Sheng Quan gently placed the book down: "If I get the chance, I''d like to meet the author of ''The Journey of Life'' and treat her to a cup of milk tea."


    As the production supervisor of the film crew, no one had asked Yu Xiangwan to read the original novel, but he quietly finished it on his own. However, it seemed a bit challenging for him, with his not-so-conventional worldview, to grasp the author''s inner thoughts through the text. At the very least, he couldn''t discern anything.


    That said, it didn''t stop Yu Xiangwan from aligning himself with Sheng Quan''s perspective: "If you like her, you could invite her to be the on-set screenwriter."


    Sheng Quan shook his head. "No, she has her own full-time job. Besides, my way of expressing affection is rather one-dimensional."


    Yu Xiangwan adjusted his glasses, already knowing what Sheng Quan was about to say.


    Sure enough, Sheng Quan pulled out his phone. "Throw money at it."


    After saying this, he continued to furiously tap on the gift-sending options on the novel website. Every gift came with a message: ¡¾I really love the books you¡¯ve written, Author! I saw in your notes that you love milk tea, so here¡¯s some milk tea for you~¡¿


    Bystanders watching this spectacle couldn''t help but comment: "Do rich people really spend tens of thousands just to buy someone milk tea?!"


    As more and more onlookers gathered around Sheng Quan''s gift-spree, the incident gained traction. Some even joined in, tossing gifts themselves, claiming it gave them a sense of participation.


    Everyone shared one thought: "I really want to know how the author feels when a wealthy fan throws tens of thousands at her."


    In reality, the author had no thoughts on the matter because she was completely unaware of it.


    The original author of *The Path of Life* went by the pen name Na Lan. If she had logged into her account, she would have seen the flood of messages from all directions. However, she had been dealing with a sudden life crisis and was utterly exhausted. She hadn¡¯t logged in for two months, let alone kept up with entertainment gossip.


    Na Lan¡¯s real name was Chen Lan, and in her day-to-day life, she was a teacher. Today, she had rushed to school just in time to avoid being late. As she hurried to her class, a new intern teacher asked, "Teacher Chen, didn¡¯t you swap classes with Teacher Ma yesterday?"


    Chen Lan suddenly remembered and nodded vaguely. "Right, right, I forgot."


    The intern teacher couldn¡¯t help but add, "Did you put your clothes on inside out?"


    Chen Lan looked down and realized she had indeed worn her clothes backward. She quickly stood up. "Oh, I didn¡¯t even notice. Thank you. I¡¯ll go to the restroom and fix it."


    After she left, the intern teacher turned to Teacher He beside her and asked, "Teacher Chen used to be so meticulous about her appearance. What¡¯s going on?"


    Teacher He glanced around and whispered, "You don¡¯t know yet, do you? Something terrible happened in Teacher Chen¡¯s family. Her husband passed away in a car accident."


    "What?!"


    Teacher He continued, "It¡¯s understandable that you didn¡¯t know. You¡¯re new here. She and her husband grew up together in an orphanage. They were childhood sweethearts who worked hard to build a life together. Their relationship was incredibly strong. Her husband used to pick her up from work all the time and always brought her milk tea. They even had twin daughters. After her husband passed, she had to handle everything alone¡ªarranging the funeral, taking care of the kids... Haven¡¯t you noticed she hasn¡¯t smiled at all lately?"


    A colleague chimed in, sighing, "I remember they just bought a house, didn¡¯t they? With our salaries being what they are, how is she supposed to pay for it all by herself?"


    Teacher He sighed. "It¡¯s not just the mortgage. There¡¯s also the kids¡¯ daycare, their daily needs, and the car loan. It¡¯s all on her shoulders now. That¡¯s why we should help her whenever we can. If our schedules allow, we should swap classes with her."


    "And in the office, let¡¯s avoid bringing up these topics. We don¡¯t want to remind her of her pain."


    The intern teacher nodded repeatedly. "Got it. I¡¯ll be more careful from now on."


    A little later, Chen Lan returned. She sat down to prepare her lesson, but before long, her phone rang. She stepped out to take the call¡ªit was the daycare center reminding her to pay the fees for the next quarter.


    As soon as she hung up, she noticed a text notification. It was a reminder about the mortgage payment. She exhaled deeply and rolled up her sleeves, only to see a doodle on her arm made with a marker. Her daughter must have drawn it while she was asleep.


    She couldn¡¯t blame the child. Her daughters were full of energy, but she was too exhausted to play with them. The twins had been so well-behaved, finding ways to entertain themselves while their mother slept.


    Chen Lan tried to tell herself it was okay, but the next moment, a tear fell onto the doodle.


    The overwhelming pressure of her chaotic life had pushed her to the brink of collapse, especially since her husband¡¯s death had come at what should have been their happiest time.


    Everything had been going so well. She had received a modest but satisfying copyright fee for her novel. After discussing it with her husband, they used the money along with their savings to make a down payment on a house and cover the renovation costs. They had finally moved out of rented accommodation and into a home of their own, something they were immensely proud of, especially since they had no parental support.


    According to their plans, their combined salaries would comfortably cover the mortgage and car payments, with enough left over to save and even continue donating to the orphanage where they grew up.


    But then, at the height of their happiness, her husband passed away.


    Overnight, their joyful life turned into one of grief and despair. She had to answer her daughters¡¯ tearful questions about where their father was, sell the home they had just built together, and shoulder all the financial burdens alone. She wanted to write a new book to earn more money, but every time she opened her document, she couldn¡¯t write a single word. She didn¡¯t even have the time to write, let alone grieve for her husband. She was already numb from the sheer weight of everything she had to handle.


    To make matters worse, both her daughters had fallen ill recently. She had been surviving on just two or three hours of sleep each night for several days. At first, it was because she didn¡¯t have time to sleep, but later, even when she did manage to rest, she would wake up abruptly.


    She was so tired.


    It just kept getting worse.


    As Chen Lan walked down the school corridor, she suddenly glanced over the edge. A rational part of her told her that things would get better, but another part of her couldn¡¯t help but think, *Maybe if I jump, it¡¯ll all be over. Maybe then I won¡¯t feel so tired.*


    She jolted awake, as if she had touched something dangerous, and quickly pulled her hand away from the railing. Panicked, she grabbed her phone and looked at the photo of her twin daughters on the lock screen, forcing herself to push away the terrifying thought.


    After the panic subsided, she was left with nothing but exhaustion and confusion. Chen Lan vaguely realized that her mental state was like walking a tightrope over a cliff¡ªor perhaps already falling from it. She thought that maybe she was developing some psychological issues, which seemed reasonable. She and her husband had grown up together, and they had been each other¡¯s strongest support. They were more than partners; they were each other¡¯s closest family.


    Losing him had left a void, and it was natural for her to struggle mentally. But where would she find the time or money to see a psychologist? Just taking care of her daughters was already more than she could handle.


    *It¡¯s okay. It¡¯ll be okay. Time will heal everything.*


    Without realizing it, Chen Lan¡¯s hand slowly drifted back to the railing.


    "Chen Lan!!! Chen Lan!!" Teacher Ma came running over, her face lit up with excitement. She was Chen Lan¡¯s friend and the only person at school who knew her pen name. She grabbed Chen Lan¡¯s hand and pulled her away from the railing.


    "Have you checked Weibo? I saw it as soon as class ended! You''re trending! No, wait, your book is trending!!"


    "There¡¯s also a really wealthy fan who spent a ton of money on you! So many people are sending you gifts! Have you not logged in for a while? Right? I knew it! Otherwise, you would¡¯ve told me. I just took a look, and the screen is flooded with gifts. This is amazing! Weren¡¯t you short on cash? This money should be enough to hire someone to take care of Ke Ke and the others, and it¡¯ll also help ease the pressure from your car and mortgage payments. You¡¯ll have some breathing room to figure things out! This money came at just the right time!"


    Chen Lan reacted slowly but heard every word clearly: "What...?"


    ***


    While soaking her feet and sipping on the milk tea delivered by a courier, Sheng Quan opened her phone and navigated to the page of the novel *Life¡¯s Path*, where she saw the author¡¯s reply.


    Author¡¯s reply: [Thank you, the milk tea was really delicious.]


    Satisfied, Sheng Quan set her phone aside and took another sip of the milk tea. "The milk tea really is delicious~"


    006, her system, realized belatedly: [Host, you¡¯ve changed her fate. Her original ending was severe depression leading to suicide. After the drama aired, fans would have discovered that she and her husband had been quietly supporting charitable causes. Their story would have sparked a wave of public mourning and remembrance.]


    Sheng Quan: [I know.]


    006: [She¡¯s not one of the beneficiaries you were supposed to support.]


    [I know.]


    Sheng Quan took another sip of milk tea: [You didn¡¯t notice that the system didn¡¯t issue any warnings when I used its funds, did you? Because every penny I spent on her was converted into popularity for the drama and for Yan Hui. It¡¯s an expense that aligns with the system¡¯s rules.]


    006: [No, that¡¯s not what I meant. I wanted to ask why you chose to help her when she¡¯s not one of the beneficiaries you selected.]


    Sheng Quan thought for a moment and smiled: [Because I didn¡¯t like that ending, and I had the power to change it.]


    006 seemed to understand but not entirely. Sheng Quan chuckled and set down her milk tea: [It¡¯s fine if you don¡¯t get it. Weren¡¯t you worried about my lifespan? You can rest easy now.]


    After a long day of filming in the remote mountains, Wan Bao yawned and led the crew back to their base. As he walked, he pulled out his phone to check for any juicy gossip. The moment he opened Weibo, he frowned. "Why is the internet still so slow?"


    Completely unaware that their small, low-profile production might have gained sudden popularity, he muttered, "What¡¯s going on? Did Weibo crash? Of all times... AHHHHHHHH!!!!!"


    Wan Bao¡¯s high-pitched scream nearly deafened Lin Aike, who was sipping water from her thermos nearby. Zhou Zhi and Yan Hui, who were sharing some dried chicken breast, looked up in confusion, startled by the outburst.


    Lin Aike quickly took a sip of her goji berry-infused water to calm her nerves. She thought to herself, *What¡¯s going on? Has the director finally lost it? I¡¯m so hungry... Is he screaming because he¡¯s starving too?* Just then, her phone reconnected to the network, and a barrage of notifications chimed incessantly.


    The same thing happened to the rest of the crew. Phones buzzed and chimed with alerts from various platforms.


    Lin Aike was puzzled. They¡¯d been offline for filming before, but she didn¡¯t recall ever receiving this many messages. As she pulled out her phone, her manager called:


    "Why did it take you so long to answer? Never mind, that¡¯s not important! Do you know what¡¯s happening? The drama you¡¯re filming right now is blowing up!!"


    Director Wan Bao: "AHHHH WHAT¡¯S GOING ON WHY ARE THERE SO MANY NEW FOLLOWERS ON OUR DRAMA¡¯S WEIBO PAGE DID SHENG QUAN BUY US FAKE FOLLOWERS BUT THEY SEEM SO REAL AHHHHHH..."


    The manager¡¯s excited voice and Wan Bao¡¯s ecstatic shouts created a chaotic symphony.


    Lin Aike, clutching her thermos filled with goji berries and still thinking about what to eat for dinner: "???"


    "WHAT??!!"

 Chapter 9

    Not only Lin Aike, but other actors and even staff members in the crew received calls and messages from all directions.


    ¡ª"Hey man, are you currently working on ''The Road of Life''? I heard a wealthy fan invested ten million just to get an actor to play Qin Heng. Is that true?"


    ¡ª"OMG!!! Girl, where are you? I¡¯ve been calling you non-stop! Get on Weibo now! That gorgeous lady who invested in your drama is trending!"


    ¡ª"Yes, even the Weibo accounts of you main cast members have been discovered. Your follower count is skyrocketing. We need to seize this opportunity. I¡¯ve already booked a flight and am coming over to see if we can negotiate with Director Wan to add more scenes for you. You¡¯re the male lead, so it should be easier to talk."


    ¡ª"Old Gao, are you still working as an extra in ''The Road of Life''? Is what¡¯s trending online true?"


    ¡ª"This drama is already a hit before it¡¯s even aired. You¡¯re really lucky. I¡¯ve discussed it with the company, and we¡¯ve secured a lot of promotional resources for you, Wang Zheng. Make sure you do your best, okay? A supporting role in a hit drama is way more popular than the lead in a flop. This kind of opportunity is something many people wait ten or twenty years for."


    The content of these calls and messages was mostly a mix of verification and congratulations, with many people eager to hear more inside information and coming specifically to dig for details.


    Then there were people like Lin Aike¡¯s agent, who, after the initial excitement, quickly figured out how to position their artist and plan how to ride this wave of momentum.


    For a moment, everyone was either making calls, listening to voice messages, or replying to texts, including Director Wan Bao. He was still basking in the joy when his phone started ringing non-stop, forcing him to pause his baritone singing and switch to social mode.


    Exaggerated?


    Not at all.


    Keep in mind, the Weibo trending search titled "#What It¡¯s Like to Have a Wealthy Fan as the Original Novel Reader#" had already climbed to ninth place and was still rising. The attention from this topic had turned into real traffic, and it was clear that these curious netizens were either scattering or swarming toward the drama¡¯s related personnel.


    The actors who had been tagged by the official account were now in the public eye within this short period of time.


    Sheng Quan scrolled through them one by one, and it was clear that the follower counts of almost all the main cast of ''The Road of Life'' had doubled, or even tripled.


    As for Yan Hui, the protagonist, his numbers were even more impressive. Before this, no one even knew his name, but now, his Weibo followers were the highest in the entire crew.


    Sheng Quan wasn¡¯t surprised, but 006 was overjoyed!


    ¡¾Host! The career points are rising!! You¡¯re not going to die!¡¿


    Although she had already anticipated this outcome, 006¡¯s genuine happiness for her made Sheng Quan respond in kind: ¡¾Yeah, now you can relax and enjoy the drama, right?¡¿


    006: ¡¾Mhm! Host is amazing! To gain so many career points in just one day! Once it reaches ten, you¡¯ll be able to receive a stage reward~¡¿


    Sheng Quan¡¯s eyes lit up: ¡¾A stage reward? Is it money?¡¿


    Her current financial situation was a bit awkward. To make a strong first impression, she had spent almost all her money on critical areas, including building up her image as a wealthy person. The results were indeed obvious, as everyone she encountered now gave her the green light.


    But only Sheng Quan knew the truth: she was staying at the Junyue Hotel for 188,000 a night, driving a luxury car worth over 20 million, and had invested 10 million in the drama, yet her pockets were nearly empty.


    006, however, regretfully informed her: ¡¾It¡¯s not time for cash rewards yet. Stage rewards can only be physical items.¡¿


    Sheng Quan wasn¡¯t too surprised. She had already figured out the reward system of the funding system. It was very generous with physical items but rather stingy when it came to money. She guessed this rule was likely designed to ensure the host fully focused on aiding the beneficiaries, as these physical items couldn¡¯t be resold. To earn rebates, the host would naturally work hard to help the beneficiaries achieve career success.


    So those wishes were probably just the wishes of the novel fans, after all.


    Sheng Quan quickly became excited again: ¡¾Can I know what the reward is now?¡¿


    006: ¡¾Since it¡¯s a beginner task, the reward is pretty good too. You¡¯ll still need to draw it yourself, but this time, there¡¯s even an SSSS-level reward in the stage rewards. If you manage to draw that, it would be amazing~¡¿


    Showing the host the reward content in advance wasn¡¯t against the rules, so 006 happily let Sheng Quan take a look. Sheng Quan scanned it and felt quite lucky: ¡¾It¡¯s exactly what I need right now. What¡¯s Yan Hui¡¯s career value at now?¡¿


    006: ¡¾First funding recipient career value: 8¡¿


    Sheng Quan: ¡¾Then we should be able to draw in a few days. Want to watch some TV together?¡¿


    006 was delighted: ¡¾Yes! I want to watch the one we saw last time!¡¿


    ¡¾Alright, I¡¯ll turn on the TV.¡¿


    Sheng Quan smiled. Although 006 was great at making money, it had only been born less than a month ago. Faced with this naive, reliable, and always caring newborn system, she was always more than willing to accommodate.


    After watching TV with 006 for about two hours, Sheng Quan was about to head out for a meal when there was a knock at the door. After being granted permission to enter, Yu Xiangwan walked in:


    ¡°Ms. Sheng, I¡¯ve compiled the list of senior administrative management personnel who have submitted resumes to us, but most of them don¡¯t meet our requirements.¡±


    Sheng Quan took the list and glanced through it. Some had demands that were ridiculously high, while others clearly saw their company as complete novices and were spouting nonsense, painting unrealistic pictures with no sincerity. She wasn¡¯t angry, though, and simply tossed the file aside: ¡°It seems they don¡¯t think Xingmang has much potential.¡±


    A hint of irritation flashed in Yu Xiangwan¡¯s eyes. He hated seeing others underestimate Sheng Quan: ¡°They¡¯re blind.¡±


    Sheng Quan patted his shoulder with a smile: ¡°Alright, alright, I¡¯m not upset, so why are you? It¡¯s understandable. After all, we¡¯re just a shell company right now¡ªno people, no resources, not even an office building settled. What talented senior administrative manager would want to work for me? Forget them; even regular employees wouldn¡¯t be willing.¡±


    Yu Xiangwan said solemnly: ¡°Regardless of all that, I will always follow you, Ms. Sheng.¡±


    Sheng Quan: ¡°...¡±


    Oh right, she forgot about his unwavering loyalty.


    ¡°Alright, don¡¯t worry about that. Do you know what¡¯s most important for artists in the entertainment industry to make it big?¡±


    Yu Xiangwan thought for a second: ¡°Resources.¡±


    That was indeed the answer he would give. Harsh, but true.


    Before stepping into society, Sheng Quan used to think that the most important things for making it big in the entertainment industry were acting skills, looks, physique, and so on.


    In reality, across all industries, ability truly speaks for itself. Take Sheng Quan''s previous life, for example. She lost both parents at a young age and grew up in poverty, but that didn''t stop her from climbing her way up to a management position. Although she sacrificed her hair in the process, she successfully achieved a class leap.


    The reason? Simply because she had the ability.


    Unfortunately, the entertainment industry doesn''t operate the same way.


    In this fiercely competitive field, there are plenty of people with great acting skills, plenty of good-looking individuals, and no shortage of those who are both talented and attractive. However, having these qualities isn''t enough¡ªyou need to showcase them for others to notice.


    If no one offers you a role, how can you demonstrate your skills? Even if you do get a part, your scenes might end up on the cutting room floor. Can the audience really recognize your exceptional talent from a few fleeting moments? More often than not, you might not even get those few moments¡ªjust a blink-and-you-miss-it appearance, and even that might be cut short.


    As for looks, it''s even more straightforward. If you''re not the lead, how can you possibly outshine them? Attractive actors without resources are often asked to tone down their appearance. Going makeup-free is considered a win, and sometimes they''re even made to wear unflattering makeup or darken their skin.


    No matter how talented you are, you need the perfect platform to showcase your abilities before people can exclaim, "Wow, there''s such a remarkable person here!"


    That''s why the entire crew was overjoyed¡ªat least the actors were. On this day, they became the center of attention, known to the public, and gained an opportunity for more people to recognize and appreciate their talents.


    Sheng Quan used to despise these "rules." As a viewer, she would feel infuriated every time she saw actors with little talent but plenty of looks starring in adaptations of her favorite novels.


    She didn''t know how other fans of the original works felt, but she personally didn''t mind novels being adapted into TV shows or movies. She longed to see grand scenes, deeply moving emotions, and the clash of stunning visuals. But those adaptations that ruined the original works didn''t deliver any of that.


    Thinking about this, Sheng Quan clenched her teeth in frustration. Her gaze fell on the script for *The Road of Life* beside her, and her mood gradually calmed.


    Oh right¡ªshe was now the one making the rules.


    Moreover, her hair had grown back. 006 was truly thoughtful. The body created for her using wish power not only matched her original one but also restored her to the age of twenty-three. Although she had already started losing hair due to late nights at that age, after a period of early nights, early mornings, and proper care, Sheng Quan''s hair had regained its glossy, jet-black sheen.


    Running her fingers through her smooth, silky hair, Sheng Quan cheerfully agreed with Yu Xiangwan''s observation: "So we don''t need to worry about these things anymore. We have the resources now, and smart people who want to take a chance will come to us."


    At least in the eyes of others, Sheng Quan, who had invested ten million in the production and had the rising star Yan Hui under her wing, had indeed secured valuable resources. The buzz and attention she commanded, though seemingly intangible, could easily be transformed into various opportunities within the industry.


    Yu Xiangwan immediately understood Sheng Quan''s meaning. "Got it. Should we continue looking for office space?"


    "No need," Sheng Quan replied with a smile. "Instead of renting a floor in an office building, we can make a better choice."


    ***


    Sheng Quan''s "splashing of cash" didn''t catch the attention of her peers. After all, ten million was something they could afford too, and Yan Hui, the newly minted star, was nothing out of the ordinary for them.


    Besides, while the industry was cutthroat for artists, companies generally preferred to maintain a friendly atmosphere among themselves. Everyone was just trying to make money, not wage a life-or-death battle, so exchanging pleasantries wasn''t that hard.


    Not many in the entertainment industry paid much attention to Sheng Quan. Ten million wasn''t enough to make them drop everything and scrutinize trending topics. Those who dug into Sheng Quan''s background were mostly small companies with limited registered capital, aspiring artists hoping to become the "next Yan Hui," and a few directors seeking investments.


    At the moment, the ones most interested in Sheng Quan were Yan Hui''s former agency.


    Yes, that would be Huafan Entertainment, the company that had held him back for ten years.


    They had completely forgotten that Yan Hui had once been under their banner. Over the past decade, this small but murky entertainment company had gone through several rounds of personnel changes. Even the original owner was no longer a shareholder, so who would remember a name like Yan Hui?


    If it weren''t for the public''s fervent search for information about Yan Hui, with resourceful netizens digging up Huafan''s name, they wouldn''t even have known this had anything to do with them.


    Huafan''s first thought was to ride the wave of hype.


    The buzz had already passed through several hands. It had been three days since the topic first trended, yet netizens were still enthusiastically discussing and uncovering new tidbits. Fans from book clubs were sharing screenshots, and someone had even posted photos of the luxury car Sheng Quan drove when she first met Yan Hui for a pancake breakfast. Now that the story had blown up, those same people were sharing screenshots, claiming they were there from the very beginning, and so on.


    Such a golden opportunity to jump on the hype train¡ªonly a fool would pass it up.


    Fortunately, the majority shareholder, the big boss, was level-headed. He raised a crucial question: Yan Hui had the looks, the charm, and the talent. Why had such a promising star languished in obscurity at their company for ten years?


    Well... that was a good question.


    After some digging, things got awkward.


    The management team stopped thinking about riding the hype and focused on one thing: "Does he hold a grudge against us? Should we try to clear up any misunderstandings? He''s at the peak of his popularity right now. If he says something to the media..."


    Clearing up misunderstandings wasn''t a bad idea. After all, it wasn''t them who had suppressed Yan Hui back then. The company still bore the name Huafan, but everything else had changed multiple times over. If Yan Hui held a grudge against Huafan for past grievances, it would be an undeserved blow to them.


    The big boss, however, remained firm. The company might be small, but he had other ventures and was a seasoned player in the industry. He was far more composed than his subordinates:


    "What''s there to say? Even if he has a young woman backing him with ten million, or even an entire company, these things are understood between us. There''s no need to say more."


    He turned to his assistant and asked, "What''s the background of this Miss Sheng?"


    The assistant did his best to investigate, but this wasn''t a TV drama where a quick search would reveal all the details. In such a short time, he could only gather surface-level information, and even that required spending money and calling in favors.


    The good news was that the expenses were reimbursed.


    "Miss Sheng''s name is Sheng Quan. She''s twenty-three years old and seems to have returned from abroad. Since coming back, she''s been staying in the penthouse suite at the Junyue Hotel, booked for six months straight. Beyond that, there''s not much else we could find out."


    As he spoke, he couldn''t help but marvel inwardly. The Junyue Hotel was notoriously expensive, and Miss Sheng had booked the penthouse suite for half a year¡ªthat alone cost over thirty million. Even his boss hadn''t lived so lavishly.


    "Junyue Hotel," Mr. Wang narrowed his eyes slightly. "It seems her family does have some substantial background. Young people love to indulge and show off, but there''s no need to be overly cautious. They''re just kids, after all. It''s all about novelty for them. I''m sure after a while, she''ll lose interest and won''t want to play in this circle anymore."


    Seeing Mr. Wang''s confidence, the management team felt reassured.


    Indeed, their Mr. Wang had been in the entertainment industry for decades and could be considered a seasoned veteran. He had seen it all¡ªbig storms and small waves. To others, a young tycoon who splurged without a second thought might seem impressive, but in his eyes, they were just kids craving attention.


    After speaking calmly, Mr. Wang picked up his teacup and was about to take a sip when his assistant''s phone buzzed. The assistant glanced at Mr. Wang, who waved his hand, signaling him to check the message.


    As soon as he read it, his expression changed.


    Without even putting his phone away, he hurried over to Mr. Wang''s desk and whispered into his ear, "Mr. Wang, the person we asked to investigate Miss Sheng just sent me a message. Huaxing Building in Shanghai was transferred to Miss Sheng''s name yesterday."


    Mr. Wang''s hand, holding the teacup, paused. "Huaxing Building in Shanghai?"


    "Yes."


    "The one with rent at 70,000 RMB per square meter? That Huaxing Building?"


    "Yes, that''s the one. We rent half a floor there ourselves."


    Mr. Wang slowly took a sip of tea, set the cup down gently, and then stood up.


    The assistant quickly followed. "Mr. Wang, where are you going?"


    "To meet Miss Sheng."


    "I think you''re right. If there''s a misunderstanding, it should be cleared up."


    Our CEO Sheng hit the jackpot on her first try! Hahahaha!

 Chapter 10

    Sheng Quan had acquired a building.


    In fact, when the building marked with ¡¾ssr¡¿ by 006 was drawn by her, her first reaction was: Did 006 secretly give her special treatment?


    006 was utterly shocked and loudly protested its innocence: ¡¾How could that be! I tried! It''s impossible to give special treatment! This was drawn by the host herself!¡¿


    Sheng Quan: ...So you actually did try to give me special treatment.


    She had actually managed to draw a building without any system intervention.


    And not just any ordinary building, but a 33-story commercial tower located in Shanghai, with a total area measured in hundreds of thousands of square meters.


    What does it mean to own such a building?


    Ask anyone on the street, and they could tell you the immense value it represents¡ªprime real estate in a bustling metropolis.


    Sheng Quan herself was astonished. Since she had always had average luck, she hadn¡¯t held much hope for the draw. Seeing that the lowest option was ¡¾one floor of a commercial building, rented for six months¡¿, she had kept her expectations low.


    After all, it was all free. Even if she got the smallest prize, it would still solve a major financial burden.


    Before the draw, she had even been eating a jianbing guozi (a type of Chinese crepe) that Yu Xiangwan had brought back for her after his trip down the mountain.


    And it wasn¡¯t even the deluxe version¡ªjust a regular one with an egg.


    Then, just as she took her first bite, she drew the highest-tier prize: a commercial tower.


    ¡¾I hereby declare that jianbing guozi is now my favorite food!¡¿


    Sheng Quan was overjoyed. Although she couldn¡¯t access the rental income from the building right now and could only use the floors as needed, knowing that the building was generating money (thanks to the hardworking 006, who had invested it as capital), she was thrilled.


    Most importantly, with this building, she could now leverage its prestige to simplify many things. Sheng Quan could almost see a swarm of money fluttering toward her like little winged creatures.


    Take, for example, this Mr. Wang who had suddenly appeared to apologize to her. The building had just been transferred to her name yesterday, and this afternoon, he had flown over to meet her.


    Sheng Quan would bet that if she didn¡¯t have this building, he would probably still see her as some random rich kid who suddenly popped up, or a young person not worth paying attention to. He definitely wouldn¡¯t have been so polite.


    Of course, Mr. Wang would never admit it. He was all smiles, speaking in a warm and fatherly tone: ¡°I only found out from people online that Yan Hui used to be with Huafan and had some unpleasant history with them back then.¡±


    ¡°Although I wasn¡¯t at Huafan at the time, it was still Huafan¡¯s mistake. After learning the details, as the new owner of Huafan, my first thought was that I had to apologize to Teacher Yan Hui. I don¡¯t know what Mr. Fang was thinking, letting such a talented person go over some petty grudge and holding him back for ten years.¡±


    As he spoke, he stood up from the dining table: ¡°I must toast to Teacher Yan Hui. Huafan wronged you.¡±


    In essence, he was conveying one central idea: This wasn¡¯t my doing. If you want to hold a grudge, take it up with that Mr. Fang.


    Sheng Quan understood perfectly. She gestured for Yan Hui, who had quickly stood up, to sit back down, and she herself raised her glass, smiling gracefully:


    ¡°This matter has nothing to do with you, Mr. Wang. Why are you apologizing? If anything, I¡¯m the lucky one. If he had still been at Huafan, you would have surely discovered him. Snatching such a talented person from you, I should be the one toasting you.¡±


    Mr. Wang was momentarily taken aback and now genuinely viewed this Miss Sheng in a new light.


    Before coming, his biggest concern had been that young people tend to be hot-headed and might not know how to take the offered olive branch. But Sheng Quan not only gracefully accepted it but also handed one back to him.


    At such a young age, her words and actions were so polished. If he didn¡¯t know her age, he would have thought he was dealing with one of those seasoned veterans.


    Mr. Wang¡¯s smile became much more sincere.


    After all, in the same industry, it¡¯s always good to exchange compliments. When there¡¯s no conflict of interest, it¡¯s best to keep things amicable and profitable.


    Originally, he had just wanted to nip any potential trouble in the bud¡ªwho knows if a young person might get carried away and come after Huafan? But now, he genuinely considered building a friendly relationship with Sheng Quan.


    A wealthy, well-connected, and sharp-minded second-generation heir, clearly intent on making a mark in the entertainment industry¡ªit couldn¡¯t hurt to get to know her better.


    He clinked glasses with Sheng Quan, then turned his gaze to Yan Hui, who was sitting nearby: ¡°It¡¯s a shame we missed out on Teacher Yan Hui, but that doesn¡¯t mean we can¡¯t collaborate. We happen to have a project in production right now. Would Teacher Yan Hui be interested in making a guest appearance?¡±


    Sheng Quan showed interest: ¡°Are you referring to ¡¶Hua Nian¡·, Mr. Wang?¡±


    Mr. Wang¡¯s heart skipped a beat. Although their company hadn¡¯t gone out of their way to hide the production of ¡¶Hua Nian¡·, there hadn¡¯t been much media coverage either. For Sheng Quan to know about it, she must have done some research on Huafan.


    Why would she investigate Huafan? The implications were quite intriguing.


    Mr. Wang couldn¡¯t help but curse inwardly. These wealthy families really raised no pushovers. That scoundrel Fang Chengdong¡¯s dirty deeds almost landed on his lap. If he hadn¡¯t been quick-witted and agile, he might have ended up with a wealthy and troublesome adversary for no reason.


    As for whether Sheng Quan might not hold a grudge against Huafan¡ªwho could say? Most people wouldn¡¯t, but a young, wealthy heir who could drop a million for a favorite novel character¡ªwho knows what she¡¯s thinking?


    It¡¯s like the classic question: Who¡¯s more dangerous¡ªa thirty- or forty-year-old thug or a fourteen- or fifteen-year-old thug?


    The answer is always the young one. Young people are reckless, impulsive, and passionate¡ªthey¡¯re capable of anything. And Sheng Quan might have some kind of ¡°Qin Heng filter¡± when it comes to Yan Hui. Mr. Wang was just glad he¡¯d come in time.


    Sheng Quan could tell from Mr. Wang¡¯s subtle expression what he was thinking. She clarified: ¡°Don¡¯t misunderstand. Our production supervisor is just very well-informed, and I happened to hear about it.¡±


    Yu Xiangwan, who had been silently peeling shrimp for Sheng Quan, gave Mr. Wang a polite smile.


    It was indeed him who had told Sheng Quan about it.


    In fact, he had used his extensive network to thoroughly investigate everyone around Sheng Quan, including Yan Hui. Otherwise, how else would he have traced things back to Huafan?


    Yu Xiangwan hadn¡¯t intended to do anything malicious. In his eyes, Sheng Quan was the best person in the world, but good people often attracted envy and schemes. Having seen too much of the industry¡¯s underbelly, he couldn¡¯t help but want to protect her.


    And Huafan, an entertainment company with a history of conflict with Yan Hui, naturally made it onto Yu Xiangwan¡¯s watchlist. Even if they didn¡¯t cause trouble, who knows if they might try to ride on the coattails of the hype?


    Mr. Wang, who had indeed considered riding the hype, glanced at the elegant and handsome Yu Xiangwan, who had spent the entire meal using his fair, slender hands to peel shrimp and pour wine for Sheng Quan.


    "Hahaha, so that''s how it is. President Sheng, you really have a lot of talented people under you. I''m truly envious. That''s right, it''s ''Crane Blossom Years.''"


    ¡ªCome on, how well-informed can a producer be? He didn''t believe it. Sheng Quan, that little fox, must have investigated Huafan thoroughly.


    Mr. Wang secretly admired his own wisdom, but on the surface, he maintained a kind smile. "Since President Sheng knows about it, I wonder if you''d be willing to let Teacher Yan Hui guest star for a few days?"


    Sheng Quan was more than willing. Yan Hui''s career had just crossed the ten-point mark, and he had already earned her a building. If it weren''t for knowing that haste makes waste and that the best choice was long-term development, she would have pushed Yan Hui''s career to eighty points on the spot.


    Amid the cheerful clinking of glasses, Yan Hui secured a guest role in a decent production. Since "Crane Blossom Years" was set to wrap up this month, he could finish filming this month and, at the earliest, appear before the public in two months.


    Sheng Quan was overjoyed, as if she could already see Yan Hui''s career skyrocketing to new heights.


    Moreover, she had gained her first industry connection¡ªMr. Wang.


    Although Mr. Wang appeared friendly toward her, he was, after all, a seasoned veteran who had been in the industry for decades. His network and resources were far more extensive than they seemed, certainly more than what Junyue Hotel could offer.


    If they built a good relationship, Sheng Quan could easily tap into his vast resources and connections.


    Mr. Wang extended a friendly olive branch, and as a newcomer to the entertainment industry, Sheng Quan naturally wouldn''t ignore it. After consulting with 006 about her control over Huaxing Building, she offered to lease an entire floor to Mr. Wang at a discounted rate next quarter.


    Mr. Wang''s pupils constricted in surprise.


    "An entire floor?! President Sheng, this... this is truly too generous. Thank you so much."


    Here''s what it means to lease an entire floor of Huaxing Building at a relatively low price.


    First, this highly commercial building is located in Shanghai, where land prices are astronomical. Its location? Right in the heart of the business district, with everything from dining to shopping and high-end property services. Any company serious about growth would want to set up shop here.


    As more promising and well-funded companies moved in, Huaxing Building gradually became the kind of place where landing a job right after graduation would earn you some serious envy.


    Think about it: when job hunting, would you rather work in a nondescript building next to a nail salon or in a prestigious, high-end skyscraper with a corporate vibe?


    And when negotiating deals, would you feel more confident partnering with a company based in an unknown building or one headquartered in Huaxing Building?


    Over time, it became a trend for business owners looking to establish their company''s reputation to lease space in well-known commercial buildings like Huaxing Building, as long as they had the funds.


    In a fast-paced city like Shanghai, where companies rise and fall daily, Huaxing Building never struggled to find tenants. It''s like how property prices in Shanghai are always sky-high, but landlords never worry about finding buyers.


    Mr. Wang was wealthy. He owned more than just a small company like Huafan. If he wanted, he could stay in the penthouse suite of Junyue Hotel for half a year. But even he couldn''t lease an entire floor of Huaxing Building; he had to share it with another company.


    Because Huaxing Building was in such high demand, it wasn''t just about having the money¡ªit was about availability.


    That''s why Mr. Wang rushed over as soon as he heard Huaxing Building had been transferred to Sheng Quan. Having the money to buy the building was one thing; actually acquiring it was another.


    Huaxing Building was like a golden goose that never stopped laying eggs. The fact that Sheng Quan had secured this golden goose suggested that the forces behind her were beyond Mr. Wang''s imagination.


    006: "I''m just really good at making money~"


    In any case, Mr. Wang speculated a lot, but he didn''t ask Sheng Quan a single question. He wasn''t foolish enough to bluntly inquire, "Who are you, and where do you come from?" All he needed to know was that the person in front of him was President Sheng, his newest and most amiable friend.


    Yes, the moment Sheng Quan offered to lease him an entire floor, this young and beautiful lady had become his best friend, his confidant, his sister from another mother.


    The fifty-something Mr. Wang was so thrilled that he kept pouring himself drinks, getting completely drunk, his face flushed red. Before the gathering ended, he grabbed Director Wan Bao''s hand, repeatedly calling him "President Sheng":


    "President Sheng, I''ve never clicked with someone so well in my life. Why didn''t we meet decades ago? I''m so happy. From now on, if you need anything, just say the word. Old Wang here may not be good at much, but I live by three words: loyalty above all!"


    Director Wan Bao, whose hand was being held: "...Mr. Wang, you''ve got the wrong person. President Sheng is over there."


    Yu Xiangwan draped Sheng Quan''s coat over her shoulders and said to Mr. Wang''s flustered assistant, "Mr. Wang is too drunk. Let him stay at the hotel President Sheng arranged."


    Sheng Quan, who hadn''t actually arranged anything, nodded with a slightly flushed face. "Yes, it''s too late for him to go back now. Let him leave tomorrow morning."


    "I''m not leaving. I''m too happy," Mr. Wang insisted, still clutching Director Wan Bao''s hand. This time, he got the name right: "Director Wan, if President Sheng is investing in your project, it''s bound to be a hit. I wonder if I could hitch a ride and make a small investment too? I won''t put in much, just two million. Do you think I could have the honor of working on the same project as President Sheng?"


    Director Wan Bao, who had only come to make an appearance and had no idea why he was invited to this dinner between two executives: "!!!"


    Was this really happening?!


    He was overjoyed but didn''t forget that Sheng Quan was the project''s main investor. He immediately turned to Sheng Quan with hopeful eyes.


    Sheng Quan, seemingly tipsy, smiled and nodded with a slightly red face. "Of course, Mr. Wang is welcome to invest. Director Wan, why aren''t you agreeing?"


    "Yes!!" Director Wan Bao''s "yes" was loud and clear, his little mustache practically quivering with excitement.


    He wanted to discuss the details tomorrow, but the drunk Mr. Wang insisted on signing the contract right away. He ordered his assistant to run out and print the documents, bought paper and pens, and, under Director Wan Bao''s eager gaze, signed the investment agreement on the spot.


    Not only that, but he also signed the agreement for Yan Hui to join the production.


    Seeing this, the slightly tipsy Sheng Quan joined in the fun, signing the contract to lease an entire floor to Mr. Wang next quarter. Such contracts had templates, so aside from the assistant running around, everything went smoothly.


    Once both contracts were finalized, the drunken group bid each other farewell with laughter and waves.


    Mr. Wang could barely walk straight. With the support of his assistant, he shuffled forward, his head constantly turning back to wave at Sheng Quan, shouting, ¡°No need to see me off, no need! Go back and rest early, hahaha! I¡¯m just so happy today. Don¡¯t bother sending me off, go back~¡±


    He was a large man, and his constant fidgeting made it a struggle for his assistant to keep him steady. Fortunately, the assistant was strong enough to manage, and they eventually made it to the car arranged by Yu Xiangwan.


    The assistant, who had deliberately avoided drinking to stay sober for driving, settled Mr. Wang into the backseat and took his place behind the wheel. As soon as the car pulled away from the hotel entrance, Mr. Wang, who had been acting rowdy just moments ago, suddenly straightened up. He wiped his face and carefully unfolded the contract he had been clutching tightly, scrutinizing it with great attention.


    The assistant, who was driving, couldn¡¯t help but comment, ¡°...You weren¡¯t drunk after all.¡±


    ¡°How could I afford to be drunk with such an important matter at hand? If I had said the wrong thing while intoxicated, I might have offended someone.¡±


    The assistant was impressed. ¡°You¡¯re really something, acting so convincingly. If I hadn¡¯t caught you earlier, you would¡¯ve fallen flat on the ground.¡±


    ¡°So what if I fell?¡± Mr. Wang replied, his chubby face practically blooming with joy as he looked at the contract in his hands. ¡°With this, I¡¯d be willing to fall a hundred times.¡±


    The assistant was puzzled. ¡°But Sheng Quan had already agreed to your terms. Why did you still put on this act?¡±


    ¡°Listen, kid, it¡¯s only because you¡¯re my nephew that I¡¯m telling you this. If you were just any assistant, you¡¯d do as you¡¯re told and not ask unnecessary questions. Be careful, or I might fire you.¡±


    The assistant chuckled while driving. ¡°Isn¡¯t it because you¡¯re my uncle that I dared to ask? My mom sent me here to learn from you, after all. If it were anyone else, I wouldn¡¯t have bothered. So, why did you go through all this trouble? Did you notice that Miss Sheng was just making empty promises?¡±


    Mr. Wang¡¯s face remained radiant with happiness, and he was in a good enough mood to enlighten his nephew.


    ¡°Let me teach you one thing. In the business world, a contract that hasn¡¯t been signed on the spot is just hot air, no matter how sweet the words sound. It¡¯s like me saying I¡¯ll get Yan Hui into our crew. If the agreement isn¡¯t signed, I could easily turn around tomorrow and claim it was just drunken nonsense. What could they do about it?¡±


    The assistant smirked. ¡°As if you¡¯d dare to go back on your word with Sheng Quan.¡±


    Mr. Wang shot his nephew a glare. ¡°Exactly because I wouldn¡¯t dare that we had to make sure this was set in stone.¡±


    ¡°Sheng Quan might not have been feeding us empty promises, but this deal is a golden opportunity for us. An entire floor of the Huaxing Building! I wouldn¡¯t be able to sleep tonight if we hadn¡¯t secured it.¡±


    His heart was still racing with excitement. ¡°With these three contracts signed, we¡¯re essentially tied to Xingmang for the time being. She helps me, I help her. Over time, we¡¯ll naturally become allies. Ah, who would¡¯ve thought that at my age, I¡¯d get to board such a big ship?¡±


    Mr. Wang was immensely proud of himself. It was his quick thinking that had turned a potential crisis into an opportunity. If he hadn¡¯t acted swiftly, swallowing his pride and flying over personally, this young but formidable Sheng Quan might have held a grudge against Huafan¡ªand by extension, him.


    If he hadn¡¯t seized the moment, leveraging his connections to win her favor, how could they have secured such a lucrative deal as renting an entire floor of the Huaxing Building?


    ¡°This Miss Sheng, though clearly a clever little fox, is still young. She doesn¡¯t fully understand all the tricks of the trade. She was genuinely drunk, and with a little coaxing, she signed the contract. We¡¯ve really lucked out. Give her a few more years of experience, and it might not have been so easy.¡±


    The assistant suddenly understood, his admiration for his uncle skyrocketing. ¡°Uncle, you¡¯re amazing! Miss Sheng was completely fooled. She was even worried you might fall!¡±


    Mr. Wang¡¯s pride swelled even further. Though his grin was practically splitting his face, he still managed to feign modesty. ¡°Oh, it¡¯s nothing special. Just standard practice in the business world.¡±


    ***


    At the hotel entrance.


    Once the car was out of sight, Sheng Quan, who had been leaning on Yu Xiangwan for support with a flushed face, immediately straightened up, her eyes clear and sharp.


    She took a few sips of water from the bottle Yu Xiangwan handed her. ¡°Alright, it¡¯s done. Let¡¯s head back.¡±


    Wan Bao, who had been grinning foolishly, was stunned. It took him a moment to process what had just happened. ¡°Sheng... Sheng Quan, weren¡¯t you... *hic*... drunk just now?¡±


    ¡°No, I was just playing along with Mr. Wang,¡± Sheng Quan replied, smoothing her hair. ¡°He wanted to use the drunken atmosphere to finalize the contract. It¡¯s a common tactic in business. But this is a win-win situation, and I¡¯m not losing out, so I just went with the flow.¡±


    Sheng Quan was in high spirits. Not only was her career about to take another leap forward, but she had also gained access to Mr. Wang¡¯s extensive network of connections. On top of that, the food at the Junyue Hotel had been exceptional, and the joy of not having to peel her own shrimp all evening had been the cherry on top.


    Wan Bao was even more confused. His already fuzzy head spun further. ¡°Mr. Wang... *hic*... wasn¡¯t drunk? He already invested two million in me.¡±


    Yu Xiangwan stepped in to explain. ¡°Mr. Wang wanted to establish a business relationship with Sheng Quan to pave the way for future opportunities. Even if he hadn¡¯t pretended to be drunk, he would¡¯ve invested that two million.¡±


    He added, ¡°I thought it was obvious. Mr. Wang may have acted drunk, but he was careful not to touch Sheng Quan even once. Even when shaking hands, he only shook yours.¡±


    Wan Bao¡¯s gaze turned vacant. ¡°...Wasn¡¯t it because he was drunk that he shook the wrong hand???¡±


    Yan Hui chimed in softly, ¡°Mr. Wang was probably trying to avoid offending Sheng Quan. He wasn¡¯t drunk at all. I noticed he covered his mouth when speaking to her, to avoid letting his breath smell of alcohol, but he didn¡¯t do that when talking to us.¡±


    Wan Bao¡¯s eyes widened in shock. ¡°You weren¡¯t drunk either?! Weren¡¯t you passed out asleep just now?!¡±


    Yan Hui blushed, looking embarrassed. ¡°Sheng Quan said I¡¯m not good at handling these kinds of drinking situations, so she told me to pretend to be drunk. I just faked sleeping.¡±


    Wan Bao: ¡°...¡±


    So, while everyone else had been acting drunk, laughing and making merry, he was the only one who had actually been intoxicated?


    He was utterly bewildered.


    Do rich people not only have more money but also more tricks up their sleeves??

 Chapter 11

    Wan Bao actually slept quite soundly that night.


    Perhaps it was because it was his first time dining at such an expensive restaurant, so he spent the whole time busy eating and drinking, or maybe it was because he was the only one who got genuinely drunk.


    He slept straight through till morning, and when he sat up in bed, he was momentarily dazed. His first thought was: Could this all have been a dream?


    After all, being invited to a meal, barely saying two words the entire time, and then walking away with a two-million investment¡ªit all sounded like the delusions of someone desperate for money.


    But now, with President Sheng as his powerful backer, he no longer had to fantasize about wealth!


    Still groggy from the night of heavy drinking, Wan Bao was lost in thought when the assistant director, spotting him through the window, rushed in with an excited outburst:


    "You¡¯re finally awake! You actually secured another two million in investment last night! How did you pull that off?! What did you do to make someone willing to invest that much in us?!"


    The assistant director¡¯s shouting jolted Wan Bao awake. "Oh, right! Mr. Wang really invested two million in us!"


    "Of course it¡¯s real! After you got back last night, you dragged every single one of us up to look at the contract. If I hadn¡¯t stopped you, you would¡¯ve run down the mountain to show it to Big Yellow. I didn¡¯t even know you two were that close."


    Indeed, Big Yellow was a dog owned by a family at the foot of the mountain.


    In the film *The Road of Life*, there was a scene involving a dog, and the crew had borrowed Big Yellow for a few days of shooting.


    Wan Bao was horrified. "Did I do anything else embarrassing last night?"


    The assistant director winced. "Well... nothing too extreme. You just kept shouting ¡®President Sheng, I love you!¡¯ at her, and no one could shut you up. Supervisor Yu¡¯s face turned black with anger, so I had to drag you back to your room before you finally settled down."


    Wan Bao: "...I¡ªI shouted ¡®I love you¡¯ at President Sheng??"


    The assistant director softened his tone, trying to sound comforting. "Look, President Sheng is kind, good-looking¡ªit¡¯s normal to like her. But... different people have different tastes. You know she prefers attractive people, and, well... no offense, but objectively speaking, you¡¯re not exactly her type. Not that you¡¯re ugly! Just... a little unattractive."


    "Anyway, how exactly did you land that investment?"


    Wan Bao stared blankly. "President Sheng invited me to dinner, and at the table, Mr. Wang wanted to befriend her. He said any project she invests in, he¡¯d follow, so he gave us the money."


    The assistant director: "..."


    Wan Bao: "Any thoughts?"


    The assistant director: "I want to tell President Sheng ¡®I love you¡¯ too."


    Unfortunately, the two didn¡¯t get the chance to express their adoration, because once Mr. Wang sobered up, he eagerly visited the set under the guise of "checking in."


    True, he did bring a truckload of food and supplies, but from the moment he arrived, he stuck to President Sheng like glue, showering her with overt and subtle flattery.


    The saying "old foxes are cunning" clearly held weight¡ªMr. Wang¡¯s skills in delivering compliments were masterful, and he had no qualms about abandoning any pretense of dignity, openly praising President Sheng in front of everyone.


    Zhou Zhi was stunned. "How is he better at sucking up than me? President Sheng¡¯s laughed at his jokes several times already."


    Lin Aike, meanwhile, muttered sourly, "If this Mr. Wang were a few decades younger, we¡¯d all be out of a job."


    Before this, President Sheng had always sat with her during lunch, and in the afternoons when Lin Aike wasn¡¯t filming, the two would gossip and exchange beauty tips.


    Being the only women on set, Zhou Zhi and Wang Zheng had never enjoyed these privileges.


    Now, with President Sheng¡¯s attention entirely captured by Mr. Wang, Lin Aike was practically fuming with jealousy.


    Zhou Zhi nodded emphatically. "Yeah, seriously! Who even is this guy? Where¡¯d he come from?"


    As the two grumbled, Wang Zheng squinted at Mr. Wang for a long moment before hesitantly saying, "I think... he might be the Mr. Wang who owns 10% of Yushuo Media."


    While the name "Mr. Wang" meant nothing to them, "Yushuo Media" rang loud and clear¡ªit was a major entertainment company, one with considerable prestige in the industry.


    This man, who had been shamelessly buttering up President Sheng, was a shareholder of Yushuo Media?!


    And not just any shareholder¡ª10% was a significant stake.


    Zhou Zhi¡¯s jaw nearly hit the floor. "Are you serious? Is it really him?"


    "I¡¯m sure," Wang Zheng confirmed. "Remember, I¡¯m signed under Yushuo Media, and his name is really similar to mine. That¡¯s why I remember¡ªit¡¯s definitely him."


    Lin Aike¡¯s eyes widened in realization. "If this Mr. Wang really is *that* Mr. Wang, then how influential must President Sheng be for him to grovel like this..."


    Zhou Zhi abruptly stood up, startling the other two. "What are you doing?!"


    Zhou Zhi straightened his expression. "I¡¯m going to work out."


    Wang Zheng blinked. "But didn¡¯t you just say you were exhausted and wanted to nap this afternoon?"


    Zhou Zhi remained solemn. "I¡¯m an actor. Staying fit is essential. I can¡¯t slack off just because I¡¯m tired."


    Lin Aike saw right through him. "Oh, please. President Sheng once said his physique was pleasing to the eye. He¡¯s just trying to impress her even more."


    The group, all relatively new to the industry, had no real rivalry¡ªtheir roles didn¡¯t clash, and Lin Aike, the most experienced among them, was easygoing. Having weathered the near-collapse of their production together, they¡¯d grown genuinely close, so teasing came naturally.


    Zhou Zhi didn¡¯t deny it. "Like you¡¯re any better. You¡¯ve been reading novels nonstop just to have more to talk about with President Sheng."


    Lin Aike pulled out her phone. "You¡¯re right. I should keep reading. Tonight, I¡¯ll go with President Sheng for a spa session. Can you two compete with that?"


    Wang Zheng, overwhelmed by their scheming, suddenly felt left behind. "What about me? Should I be doing something too?"


    Zhou Zhi and Lin Aike turned to him, then immediately scowled in envy at his unfairly beautiful face.


    Lin Aike groaned. "Ugh, it¡¯s so unfair that a guy is prettier than me."


    Zhou Zhi sighed. "You don¡¯t have to do anything. As long as that face of yours exists, President Sheng¡¯s attention will always drift your way."


    Wang Zheng¡¯s eyes lit up in understanding, making the other two even more exasperated.


    They were encountering such a prime opportunity to cozy up to a powerful figure for the first time. Although it was clear that Sheng Quan was drawn to their looks, she didn¡¯t engage in any shady dealings with them or spout cringey lines. At most, she¡¯d sip her boba tea while cheerfully watching them work out or film scenes. At first, the group had been apprehensive, but after a few days of interaction, they realized Sheng Quan was quite approachable¡ªsoon enough, they were all vying for her attention with increasing enthusiasm.


    Of course, their eagerness was also fueled by their agencies and managers whispering in their ears. Lin Aike, who had been in the entertainment industry for a while, didn¡¯t need her manager¡¯s prompting¡ªshe already knew how to play the game.


    Zhou Zhi, on the other hand, was a bit shy at first, but after his manager drilled into him, *¡°Are you seriously going to ignore this golden opportunity right in front of you? Do you want to stay a nobody forever?¡±*¡ªand considering he genuinely liked Sheng Quan, who always watched his workouts with a smile¡ªsomehow, the situation escalated into a rivalry between him and Lin Aike over who could impress her more.


    As for Wang Zheng, whose looks alone outshone both of them... Well, neither Zhou Zhi nor Lin Aike had anything to say about that.


    Unbeknownst to Sheng Quan, the lead actors were all putting their best foot forward to catch her eye. Right now, she was thoroughly enjoying herself¡ªMr. Wang, a seasoned veteran in the entertainment industry, was dropping one insider tip after another.


    Not only was Sheng Quan absorbing every word like a sponge, but even Yu Xiangwan was quietly committing the information to memory. Though knowledgeable, Yu had never held a high-ranking position before, so he was still lacking when it came to the unspoken rules known only to upper management.


    Mr. Wang didn¡¯t mind sharing his wisdom with Sheng Quan. Now that they had established a connection, her success would inevitably benefit him as well. When he heard her company was recruiting for executive roles, his eyes lit up¡ªthis was the perfect chance to score some goodwill!


    He immediately combed through his mental Rolodex and, lo and behold, came up with a name:


    *¡°Gu Zhao¡ªhave you heard of him, President Sheng?¡±*


    Sheng Quan had a vague recollection but couldn¡¯t quite place him. Still, she was certain that while she¡¯d been researching the entertainment industry since arriving here, his name hadn¡¯t come up¡ªmeaning he was probably from the novel *Starlight*.


    She leaned in, all ears. Mr. Wang, delighted to have a receptive audience, happily spilled the tea: *¡°Gu Zhao was the former COO of Wan Sheng. He helped build the company from the ground up, only to get booted out once they made it big. It caused quite a stir in our circles back then.¡±*


    Sheng Quan honed in on the key point: *¡°So his skills are top-notch?¡±*


    *¡°Absolutely,¡±* Mr. Wang said with a knowing nod. *¡°Wan Sheng wouldn¡¯t be where it is today without him. My former company, Yu Shuo, even took a hit from him once.¡±*


    Sheng Quan understood why Mr. Wang would recommend someone he¡¯d previously clashed with¡ªfor one, if Gu Zhao was as capable as claimed, both he and Sheng Quan would owe Mr. Wang a favor if things worked out.


    Secondly, the conflict between Yu Shuo and Gu Zhao wasn¡¯t personal¡ªit was business. Given the publicized rivalry between Yu Shuo and Wan Sheng, Mr. Wang, as a Yu Shuo shareholder, would naturally love to see Wan Sheng¡¯s former executive¡ªnow their enemy¡ªrise again.


    *Tsk tsk, what a sly old fox. Killing multiple birds with one stone, and his little schemes are so transparent.*


    But Sheng Quan didn¡¯t mind. If Gu Zhao truly was a rare talent, she¡¯d gladly take the favor.


    Seeing her interest, Mr. Wang quickly added a caveat: *¡°That said, while Gu Zhao¡¯s skills are undeniable, I should warn you¡ªhe¡¯s infamous for being ruthless. Cold, calculating, profit-driven, almost like a machine. And he holds grudges.¡±*


    Glancing around to ensure no outsiders were listening, he leaned in closer, performing the quintessential *¡°I¡¯m about to drop some juicy gossip¡±* prelude:


    *¡°On the surface, Wan Sheng kicked him out, but only a handful know¡ªbefore leaving, Gu Zhao dealt them a massive blow. The specifics are murky, but the damage he caused was at least this much.¡±*


    Mr. Wang flashed a cryptic hand gesture. *¡°He gutted Wan Sheng¡¯s foundation before they even made their move. No hesitation, just pure retaliation. Now that¡¯s what I call ruthless.¡±*


    Rather than repelled, Sheng Quan¡¯s eyes gleamed with admiration. *¡°Now that¡¯s talent¡ªturning the tables on Wan Sheng like that.¡±*


    She¡¯d done something similar in the past, though not as masterfully. But she, too, had made sure a former employer regretted trying to exploit her after she¡¯d outlived her usefulness.


    Mr. Wang, however, viewed things from a different perspective¡ªthat of a wary executive: *¡°He¡¯s talented, sure, but his vindictiveness scared off other companies. If you can¡¯t control him, he might turn on you too.¡±*


    Sheng Quan took his words seriously and nodded. *¡°Got it. Anyway, could you arrange a meeting? I¡¯d like to assess him myself.¡±*


    Mr. Wang agreed immediately: *¡°No problem. Since you¡¯re heading back to Shanghai soon, how about I host a tea meeting there? You two can sit down and see if it¡¯s a good fit.¡±*


    With practiced diplomacy, Sheng Quan replied warmly, *¡°Perfect. I really appreciate your help, Mr. Wang¡ªsolving such a big problem for me. I won¡¯t forget this.¡±*


    *¡°Hey, what are friends for? When it comes to me, there are just two words: loyal and reliable!¡±*


    Mr. Wang wasn¡¯t stupid¡ªthis was a golden opportunity to strengthen ties with a rising powerhouse. If Sheng Quan weren¡¯t a young woman (making prolonged one-on-one networking awkward), he¡¯d have stuck to her like glue for the next month.


    *President Sheng has one building today, ten tomorrow¡ªbest to nurture this connection while she¡¯s still climbing.*


    Though his body was aging, Mr. Wang¡¯s mind remained sharp and energetic. Seizing the moment, he launched into another round of industry gossip¡ªafter all, nothing bonds people faster than shared secrets.


    And so, Sheng Quan was treated to a flood of insider scoops:


    *¡°So-and-so is a total scammer¡ªnever trust him.¡±*


    *¡°Such-and-such is a great investor but has questionable ethics.¡±*


    *¡°That famous XX? Total introvert, hates crowds.¡±*


    *¡°This director is steady, but that company? A hollow shell waiting for some poor sucker to take the bait.¡±*


    Sheng Quan listened with rapt attention. Gossip was undeniably entertaining, but the sheer variety of scandals also highlighted just how cutthroat this industry was.


    She *really* needed a top-tier COO¡ªsomeone capable of holding down the fort while she navigated these treacherous waters.


    As for doing it herself? She wasn¡¯t even trained in this profession. One should stick to what they¡¯re good at, and Sheng Quan wasn¡¯t so blindly arrogant as to think she could outperform the professionals who¡¯d clawed their way up in this industry.


    Besides, the Chief Operating Officer, also known as the President, might sound impressive, but unlike in novels, real-life presidents aren¡¯t idle enough to spend their days drowning in romance.


    At their core, presidents are still employees working under the board chairman. Though they usually get company shares, a true president in a growing company is swamped with work!


    Even if they appear to be doing nothing, their minds are always occupied with critical matters. Every president Sheng Quan had met was indeed impressive, but they all shared the "Three Lacks": lack of sleep, lack of time, and lack of hair.


    That¡¯s just how it is when you¡¯re burdened with endless responsibilities.


    So, Sheng Quan had never once considered becoming a president herself. She wasn¡¯t insane¡ªshe had money and leisure now, so why not enjoy life instead of grinding away at work?


    After affirming this thought, Sheng Quan happily went for a spa session with Lin Aike. She didn¡¯t even have to pay¡ªMr. Wang, who claimed he also needed some pampering, eagerly footed the bill.


    Of course, they were in separate rooms. Mr. Wang always knew his boundaries, striking the perfect balance in his interactions. If Sheng Quan hadn¡¯t been returning to Shanghai the next day, he might¡¯ve even signed her up for a membership and loaded it with tens of thousands of yuan.


    In the end, he didn¡¯t get one for Sheng Quan, but he did for Lin Aike.


    With a beaming smile, he said, ¡°Since President Sheng is heading back to Shanghai, I won¡¯t get you a membership. But Aike, when you¡¯re not busy filming, come here often. Proper maintenance ensures you¡¯re in top shape for your scenes.¡±


    Lin Aike was flustered by the unexpected gesture and hesitated to accept.


    Even she could tell Mr. Wang was only doing this to curry favor with Sheng Quan. Unsure, she glanced at Sheng Quan for guidance.


    Sheng Quan thought, *What a sly fox.* He even extended his courtesy to Lin Aike, whom she was close to, with such a convincing excuse. Had she been a naive newcomer, she¡¯d have been completely won over by his tactics.


    Smiling, she said, ¡°It¡¯s Mr. Wang¡¯s kind gesture. Just accept it, Aike. Don¡¯t feel burdened¡ªMr. Wang is also an investor in the production. Doing your best on set is all the thanks he needs.¡±


    Only then did Lin Aike carefully accept the gift, her face lighting up with delight. Her salary wasn¡¯t high¡ªafter agency cuts, personal upkeep, and paying her assistant (out of her own pocket), there wasn¡¯t much left.


    A membership worth fifty thousand yuan was beyond her means.


    Her eyes sparkled as she smiled gratefully. ¡°Thank you, Mr. Wang~¡±


    Mr. Wang, who hadn¡¯t paid Lin Aike any attention earlier (too busy fawning over Sheng Quan), suddenly noticed how strikingly beautiful she was when she thanked him.


    Lin Aike wasn¡¯t a rookie¡ªthe moment Mr. Wang¡¯s gaze shifted, she sensed the change and tensed up, instinctively moving closer to Sheng Quan.


    Sheng Quan smoothly stepped forward, shielding Lin Aike behind her, her tone cooling. ¡°Shouldn¡¯t you be heading back to rest?¡±


    Every bit of her body language screamed one message: if Mr. Wang dared to make a move on Lin Aike, she wouldn¡¯t hesitate to turn hostile.


    Snapped out of his daze by her icy demeanor, Mr. Wang broke into a nervous sweat. ¡°Ah! Look at me¡ªold folks like me get drowsy easily at this hour. Not like you youngsters, we¡¯re from different generations, after all. President Sheng, Ms. Lin, you should rest early too. I¡¯ll take my leave.¡±


    Mr. Wang inwardly cursed himself. Sure, he liked pretty women¡ªworking in the entertainment industry, with no marriage tying him down, no one batted an eye if he changed girlfriends monthly. It was all consensual, transactional fun.


    But he hadn¡¯t actually planned anything just now! He¡¯d only glanced at her. Maybe his face just naturally looked sleazy, making it seem like he had ulterior motives.


    *Does President Sheng think I¡¯m some kind of predator who forces himself on women?* And to make things worse, he¡¯d just given Lin Aike a spa membership¡ªnow it really looked like he was plotting something.


    *Heaven knows my only goal was buttering up President Sheng!* That glance had been pure reflex. Blame the spa for melting his brain into mush.


    Regret gnawed at him so fiercely he could¡¯ve slapped himself, but that didn¡¯t stop him from scurrying away like his life depended on it.


    From start to finish, he didn¡¯t dare glance at Lin Aike again, terrified of giving Sheng Quan the wrong idea.


    Seeing his reaction, Lin Aike relaxed slightly, but her heart still raced, her body trembling faintly.


    It wasn¡¯t that she was overly timid¡ªworking in this industry, she¡¯d heard and seen too much.


    Only when Sheng Quan took her hand did she slowly calm down, belatedly regretting her earlier reaction. ¡°I¡¯m sorry, President Sheng... Did I ruin your business rapport?¡±


    Had she overreacted? Mr. Wang had only looked at her.


    ¡°Not at all. Your reaction was completely normal.¡± Sheng Quan¡¯s tone was indignant. ¡°I¡¯d be pissed too in your shoes. Next time something like this happens and I¡¯m not around, call me immediately.¡±


    Hearing her fierce tone, Lin Aike instantly felt reassured.


    Of course¡ªPresident Sheng was a woman too. She understood. She wouldn¡¯t dismiss her fears or accuse her of being too sensitive, unlike others.


    Her fear evaporated, replaced by a bright, determined nod. ¡°Mm! I¡¯ll remember. Thank you, President Sheng. Love you!¡±


    Sheng Quan was utterly charmed by her radiant smile. ¡°Alright! Let¡¯s grab some late-night snacks to calm your nerves. Time to indulge!¡±


    The two happily feasted on snacks, while Mr. Wang spent the night tossing and turning, terrified Sheng Quan now held a grudge. The next day, he frantically followed her back to Shanghai, hinting on the plane that he truly had no ill intentions¡ªhis heart belonged only to money, nothing else, blah blah blah.


    Desperate to salvage his standing, the moment they landed, Mr. Wang rushed to contact Gu Zhao, hoping to redeem himself by facilitating a connection.


    When Sheng Quan arrived at the teahouse, her gaze immediately landed on the man seated inside.


    He radiated an aura of icy detachment, dressed in a crisp suit reminiscent of Yu Xiangwan¡¯s style, but with an added layer of frostiness.


    When he lifted his head, his pale gray eyes coolly met hers. Sheng Quan¡¯s inner voice screamed:


    *Holy crap.*


    *Since when do presidents look this good?*


    Her eyes involuntarily drifted upward. But the real shocker was...


    ¡ª*He even had a full head of hair.*

 Chapter 12

    Sheng Quan instinctively felt a twinge of jealousy.


    It wasn¡¯t until she suddenly remembered that her own hair was now equally lush that her mood balanced slightly. Still, after sitting down, her gaze couldn¡¯t help but drift subtly upward.


    Mr. Wang remained oblivious, cheerfully introducing them: ¡°President Sheng, this is Mr. Gu Zhao, the one I mentioned to you. Mr. Gu, this is Sheng Quan, President of Starlight Entertainment.¡±


    Since Gu Zhao currently held no official position, Mr. Wang cautiously used the title ¡°Mr.¡±


    Having already briefed each party about the other¡¯s background, Mr. Wang didn¡¯t elaborate further. After the brief introduction, seeing the two exchange polite handshakes and successfully acquaint themselves, he tactfully excused himself:


    ¡°I¡¯ll step out for some tea. Take your time.¡±


    First meetings are usually awkward, but Sheng Quan and Gu Zhao clearly weren¡¯t the type for such hesitations. Sheng Quan¡¯s eyes settled on Gu Zhao as she cut straight to the point:


    ¡°I assume Mr. Gu has brought his resume?¡±


    ¡°Of course.¡± Gu Zhao¡¯s tone was equally cool, though Sheng Quan observed that this seemed to be his natural manner of speaking¡ªcold and detached, much like the man himself, without any pretentiousness.


    Yet paired with his strikingly sharp, handsome features, that icy tone gave him an almost unreal aura.


    No wonder Mr. Wang had joked that he resembled a robot.


    The so-called ¡°robot¡± sat with perfect posture. Sheng Quan noted that he must have undergone formal etiquette training¡ªevery movement was fluid and graceful.


    Gu Zhao handed over a thick folder, at least several dozen pages long. His financial situation appeared stable, judging by the expensive luxury watch adorning his pale, slender wrist:


    ¡°This is my personal resume. President Sheng may review it before deciding whether to hire me.¡±


    Sheng Quan accepted it and flipped to the first page. Sure enough, he was mixed-race.


    She¡¯d thought as much¡ªGu Zhao¡¯s porcelain skin, sharply defined features, and light gray eyes made it biologically improbable for him to be purely Chinese.


    The first page contained standard personal details: height, weight, age, etc. But from the second page onward, Sheng Quan felt like she was witnessing the life of an academic prodigy.


    The dazzling list of achievements could be summarized as:


    Skipped grades relentlessly, graduated from a world-renowned university at 18, immediately joined an internationally acclaimed corporation, climbed the ranks at lightning speed, then abruptly resigned at the peak of his promising career to return to China. There, he cycled through the country¡¯s top companies¡ªeach time skyrocketing to executive positions before quitting without warning. Three times he reached Chief Operating Officer, and three times he walked away. Finally, he joined Wansheng, transforming the small firm into the colossal enterprise it was today.


    And the most absurd part? He had a mountain of certifications.


    She could understand the Legal Profession Qualification, Human Resource Manager, Certified Public Accountant, Actuary, and Chartered Financial Analyst. Even the Psychological Consultant certificate made sense. But what on earth were the Mandarin Proficiency Certificate and Health Manager credentials?


    It wasn¡¯t just domestic certifications either¡ªhe had an equally baffling international collection, including the most unexpected one: ACAMS (Anti-Money Laundering Specialist).


    Sheng Quan: ¡°...No wonder this resume is so thick.¡±


    She lifted her gaze to Gu Zhao, who waited in composed silence. ¡°Did you just take every exam possible? May I ask why?¡±


    Leaving aside how notoriously difficult some of these certifications were to obtain, where did he even find the time and energy? He was only in his early thirties!


    Gu Zhao replied calmly, ¡°I believe human nature inherently admires strength. These certifications position me as a socially recognized ¡®strong¡¯ individual.¡±


    ¡°Most people, upon learning my credentials, unconsciously become more accommodating, deferential, or even proactively friendly. They save me considerable trouble in my career.¡±


    Sheng Quan found this logic utterly ridiculous¡ªstudying relentlessly just to make people treat him better? And yet he¡¯d actually passed them all. Strangely, hearing it delivered in Gu Zhao¡¯s frosty tone made it somehow... plausible.


    ¡°Alright, moving on. Next question: Why did you resign from every company after reaching management level, prior to Wansheng? Could you share your reasons?¡±


    Gu Zhao¡¯s cool gray eyes remained impassive. ¡°My objective was learning. Once I exhausted a company¡¯s knowledge and experience, I left.¡±


    Sheng Quan¡¯s lips twitched. Suddenly, she couldn¡¯t resist asking, ¡°Did those companies know that was your goal?¡±


    Gu Zhao¡¯s expression didn¡¯t flicker. ¡°No. Had they known, they wouldn¡¯t have hired me. Therefore, I concealed my intentions.¡±


    Sheng Quan: ¡°...¡±


    She¡¯d guessed as much, but how did he say this so matter-of-factly, without a hint of guilt?


    Onto the next question. ¡°Mr. Wang claims you¡¯re responsible for the majority of Wansheng¡¯s success. Do you agree?¡±


    ¡°To be precise, 87.57% of the credit is mine.¡± Even when discussing the company that had ousted him, Gu Zhao¡¯s handsome face remained unreadable¡ªno resentment, no added chill. ¡°Chen Xuanzheng and He Qi¡¯s capital contributed 34.5%.¡±


    Sheng Quan: ¡°? 87.57 plus 34.5 exceeds 100.¡±


    Gu Zhao succinctly clarified: ¡°Chen Xuanzheng and He Qi¡¯s impact was negative.¡±


    Sheng Quan: Damn, that¡¯s savage.


    ¡°Out of personal curiosity,¡±¡ªby now, Sheng Quan had a solid grasp of the situation¡ªshe leaned back in her chair¡ª¡°given your caliber, why were you the one who ultimately left Wansheng?¡±


    Gu Zhao smiled. It was his first smile since they¡¯d met, yet on his striking face, it felt less like warmth and more like an icy draft down one¡¯s spine.


    In that same measured tone, he stated, ¡°Wansheng suffers from chaotic equity distribution, overwhelming debt, nepotistic shareholders, and a rotting management. It appears prosperous, but within three years, collapse is inevitable.¡±


    ¡°Rather than ¡®leaving,¡¯ it¡¯s more accurate to say I abandoned this seemingly colossal ship before its gaping holes sink it.¡±


    Now Sheng Quan understood why someone of Gu Zhao¡¯s caliber remained unemployed.


    The man was terrifyingly composed. Even when discussing the impending doom of the empire he¡¯d built, his tone never wavered from that detached calm.


    Most people experience emotional fluctuations¡ªeven the strongest wrestle with feelings, though some suppress them to act rationally.


    But Gu Zhao displayed zero affect. As if nothing in this world could stir him. Even that earlier smile when mentioning Wansheng felt more like ¡°cool, knowing mockery¡± than ¡°ha! The backstabbing company that fired me is going down!¡±


    When Sheng Quan had successfully cornered her exploitative ex-boss who¡¯d tried to skin her alive, she¡¯d been privately euphoric.


    Most people indeed have an innate admiration for strength, but Gu Zhao''s behavior would only make others distrust him¡ªat least the board members and shareholders wouldn''t dare place their faith in him.


    Who knew if Gu Zhao would be diligently working one day, only to suddenly turn ruthless the next, just as he had done to Wansheng?


    He still held shares in Wansheng. Even after being ousted from management, those shares remained firmly in his grasp, ensuring his dividends were secure. Yet he hadn¡¯t hesitated to deal Wansheng a devastating blow. This kind of mercilessness, indifferent even to his own interests, left people deeply unsettled.


    Businesspeople chase profit; mutual dealings thrive on shared gain. But Gu Zhao was too composed, too indifferent to profit¡ªno wonder they couldn¡¯t trust him.


    Sheng Quan saw all this clearly, yet she didn¡¯t recoil from Gu Zhao like the others.


    Every action had a purpose. Just as Gu Zhao claimed his reason for joining previous companies was to learn¡ªwhat, then, was the purpose behind that learning?


    If Gu Zhao truly wanted nothing and cared for nothing, he wouldn¡¯t be standing here now.


    She quickly pieced it together, taking a slow sip of tea. ¡°You must realize that telling me all this only lowers the chances of me choosing you.¡±


    ¡°I disagree.¡± Gu Zhao remained unruffled. ¡°Wang Zhengzheng is meticulous in his work. When introducing me to you, he would have detailed my background thoroughly. Under such circumstances, there¡¯s no need for me to pretend.¡±


    ¡°Moreover, I¡¯ve reflected on Wansheng¡¯s failure. The main issue was that I didn¡¯t reveal my true self to Chen Xuanzheng and He Qi, which led them to underestimate my threat and make some foolish decisions.¡±


    ¡°I was wrong. Human nature doesn¡¯t change through pretense. Presenting a false version of oneself creates dissonance in how others perceive and interact with you. If you hire me, I won¡¯t repeat such mistakes.¡±


    Sheng Quan couldn¡¯t help but admire Gu Zhao. He kept admitting fault, yet every word dripped with scorn for his former employers¡¯ intelligence.


    Wasn¡¯t he essentially saying that he¡¯d known his true nature would raise concerns, so he¡¯d initially concealed it¡ªonly to realize his act was so convincing that his bosses mistook him for a pushover, leading to reckless decisions that nearly destroyed the company?


    This time, he¡¯d learned his lesson. By showing his true colors upfront, he¡¯d scared off any firms incompatible with his philosophy.


    A ruthlessly rational judgment indeed.


    ¡°One last question.¡±


    Sheng Quan met Gu Zhao¡¯s gaze. ¡°What¡¯s your goal this time?¡±


    ¡°Everything I do serves one purpose¡ªmy life¡¯s mission.¡± Even when speaking of his lifelong pursuit, Gu Zhao¡¯s tone remained detached. ¡°I want to build the company I¡¯m with into the absolute pinnacle. Not just nationally, but globally recognized as the undisputed best.¡±


    ¡°No matter the industry, no matter the starting point, I¡¯ll devote my entire life to this goal until it¡¯s achieved.¡±


    Sheng Quan¡¯s heart began to race with excitement.


    She studied Gu Zhao, realizing she was utterly captivated¡ªnot by him, but by the ambition he described.


    Did she have ambition? Of course. Otherwise, she wouldn¡¯t have climbed so high in her past life.


    But she was also self-aware. Beyond career drive, she had other passions.


    She loved good food, admired beautiful faces, binge-watched dramas, devoured novels, and reveled in gossip and group chats. For a workaholic, Sheng Quan¡¯s hobbies far surpassed her colleagues¡¯.


    She yearned for the heights¡ªwho didn¡¯t?¡ªbut dedicating her entire existence to work struck her as unbearably dull.


    Life offered too much to explore, and Sheng Quan wanted to taste it all. She wasn¡¯t one to obsess over a single pursuit. Before meeting Gu Zhao, she¡¯d assumed this was a classic ¡°you can¡¯t have it all¡± scenario.


    Now, the prize had leaped straight into her bowl.


    Suppressing her excitement, she asked, ¡°Why not do it yourself?¡±


    Gu Zhao: ¡°Calculations show this goal requires sustained, substantial funding. I lack a stable, large-scale capital source, so I need a financially powerful partner.¡±


    He emphasized the word ¡°one,¡± clearly having learned from his Wansheng missteps to avoid multiple stakeholders.


    ¡°If you hire me, my sole condition is that you remain Starlight Entertainment¡¯s majority shareholder indefinitely. Only then can I operate with full authority.¡±


    ¡°As a gesture of sincerity, we can formalize an agreement: no matter how the company grows, my lifetime cumulative stake won¡¯t exceed one-third of yours.¡±


    Sheng Quan¡¯s spirits soared higher.


    Gu Zhao wanted neither money nor profit¡ªonly to personally elevate a company to the apex. Less a man chasing a dream than one savoring the pursuit itself.


    Talk about a perfect match. What luck to find a self-motivated, skilled, and tireless ally falling straight from the heavens!


    She didn¡¯t hide her delight, standing to extend a hand with a smile:


    ¡°You¡¯re hired. Welcome to Starlight Entertainment. May your life¡¯s mission find fulfillment here.¡±


    After hours of negotiation, Gu Zhao¡¯s expression finally flickered¡ªfirst surprise, then assessing whether she meant it. At last, he stood and shook her hand.


    ¡°Thank you for your trust. I pledge to devote myself entirely to Starlight¡¯s growth.¡±


    Once seated again, they simply sipped tea.


    Sheng Quan resisted, then gave in to curiosity:


    ¡°Out of curiosity¡ªdid you ever share your life¡¯s goal with those two?¡±


    ¡°I did.¡±


    ¡°How¡¯d they react?¡±


    ¡°They laughed. Loudly.¡±


    ¡°Wow. Their loss.¡±


    ¡°Indeed.¡±


    ¡°Were you angry?¡±


    ¡°No.¡±


    ¡°Why not?¡±


    ¡°I took them to pitch projects to other firms. After three days of talking, they lost their voices¡ªand their laughter.¡±


    This exchange confirmed Mr. Wang¡¯s assessment: Gu Zhao truly held grudges.


    With an exceptional CEO now secured for her company, Sheng Quan burned with impatience to begin.


    Eagerly, she asked Gu Zhao, ¡°What¡¯s your first step?¡±


    He pondered for a second before answering earnestly: ¡°I¡¯ll get a haircut, commission some figure-flattering suits, and sign up for a men¡¯s grooming membership.¡±


    Sheng Quan: ¡°...¡±


    Dude, did you have to say that with that ice-cold expression??


    ¡°So you can... make a dazzling debut?¡±


    Somehow, she doubted that was the reason.


    Sure enough, Gu Zhao replied: ¡°Judging by the appearances of those around you, refining my image could enhance your mood. As your subordinate, it¡¯s my duty to accommodate your aesthetic preferences¡ªwithin professional bounds, of course.¡±


    "Since I haven¡¯t done this before, I¡¯ll prioritize it first to make adjustments and corrections easier."


    Sheng Quan: "...Honestly, I don¡¯t care what you look like. You¡¯re not an actor¡ªas a CEO, all that matters is your competence. Even if you were a bald, middle-aged man, it wouldn¡¯t bother me."


    Gu Zhao¡¯s tone remained as calm and almost clinically detached as ever. As he spoke, he subtly adjusted his angle toward Sheng Quan, despite not relying on his looks for a living, he still knew precisely which angle flattered him the most.


    His strikingly pale eyes met Sheng Quan¡¯s as he delivered a bold statement with utter nonchalance:


    "But my appearance aligns with mainstream aesthetics. You like the way I look too, don¡¯t you? You just haven¡¯t admitted it."


    Sheng Quan, struck head-on by his beauty: ...No rebuttal came to mind.


    Gu Zhao concluded matter-of-factly: "If one can excel in both ability and appearance, why not strive for both?"


    The phrasing felt oddly familiar to Sheng Quan. After a moment, she realized it echoed something her middle-school math representative had once said: "If you can buy the latest math and physics practice exams, why wouldn¡¯t you do them?"


    Her past and present emotions overlapped perfectly in that instant.


    Geniuses¡ªtruly terrifying.

 Chapter 13

    Mr. Wang''s matchmaking plan was a resounding success.


    The company development that Sheng Quan had temporarily put on hold finally began progressing in an orderly fashion.


    True to his reputation as a lifelong overachiever relentlessly pursuing his ambitions, Gu Zhao wasted no time. The moment the contract was signed and the agreement finalized, he immediately got to work.


    Naturally, the company¡¯s location was set in their own Huaxing Building.


    Gu Zhao, ever ambitious, envisioned establishing the company on their own turf, with dreams of eventually occupying an entire floor for Xing Mang once it grew stronger.


    As for Sheng Quan, she was simply exploiting the system¡¯s loopholes.


    Though she couldn¡¯t access the rental income from Huaxing Building, as its owner, she had free rein to designate any floor she pleased.


    Considering Xing Mang was still in its infancy, she allocated only the top floor as the headquarters for Xing Mang Entertainment.


    In commercial hubs like Huaxing Building, the higher the floor, the more expensive the rent¡ªjust like Sheng Quan¡¯s penthouse suite. There was something undeniably exhilarating about gazing down from the highest point, a sensation businesspeople in big cities often craved.


    If you had the ambition to reach the top, why not start there from the very beginning?


    Gu Zhao wholeheartedly agreed with Sheng Quan¡¯s decision. As he had told her before, people naturally admired strength. Given that Sheng Quan owned Huaxing Building, it would be strange *not* to place her company on the most prestigious floor.


    The top floor had originally been leased to a well-known industry giant, which had rented both that level and the one below it. Their lease was set to expire in just two months.


    Rather than waiting, Gu Zhao paid them a visit immediately¡ªthough as a gesture of goodwill, he offered a discount on their next rental period. The company¡¯s president readily agreed and instructed employees to relocate downstairs that very day.


    Sheng Quan wasn¡¯t surprised. As the saying went, harmony bred wealth. Unless absolutely necessary, businesspeople were usually quite accommodating.


    The company, Huaxia Huiteng, employed over a thousand people across its two floors. While the employees on the 32nd floor took the news in stride, those on the 33rd were baffled when they suddenly received a group notification mid-shift: *Relocate to the 31st floor¡ªeffective immediately.*


    The main work chat was flooded with robotic *"Received"* replies, but smaller groups exploded with chatter.


    **[Why the sudden move? And why right now? This is way too abrupt!]**


    **[Aren¡¯t we on a quarterly lease? It¡¯s not even up yet!]**


    **[I checked¡ªour lease still has two months left.]**


    **[Ughhhhh, I have a mountain of work today! Why drop this bomb now?!]**


    If this had happened in school¡ªsuddenly being told to switch classrooms mid-lecture¡ªmost students would¡¯ve been thrilled at the unexpected break.


    But in the corporate world, an impromptu office move was anything but welcome. Work didn¡¯t magically disappear just because you were busy packing. Unfinished tasks meant overtime, whether you liked it or not.


    The complaints piled up, especially since most of them were in suboptimal health¡ªhigh salaries but zero gym routines. Now they had to haul their own desks?


    **[I threw out my back yesterday. Can I skip the heavy lifting?]**


    **[So jealous of whoever took leave today. Should¡¯ve done the same.]**


    **[Seriously, what¡¯s the reason? Is the company in trouble?]**


    The smaller group chats buzzed nonstop, with some frantically tagging their supervisors for answers.


    **[He¡¯s in a meeting¡ªprobably about this.]**


    **[Aaaaaaah I¡¯m speed-saving files right now! So annoying! Guess I¡¯m working late AGAIN.]**


    **[Bold of you to assume you¡¯d clock out on time!]**


    **[Five straight days of overtime, and now I¡¯ll be working from home tonight too. HAHAHAHA I¡¯m totally fine, not losing it at all HAHAHAHA.]**


    Just as the messages were flying, the department heads returned from their meeting¡ªaccompanied by a team of Huaxing Building¡¯s property staff in their crisp uniforms.


    Someone immediately posted in the chat: **[What¡¯s happening? Why is the Huaxing Dream Team here?]**


    As everyone knew, a building¡¯s value wasn¡¯t just about location and square footage¡ªit also depended on the property management.


    It was like buying off-plan properties: the sales pitch featured a lineup of tall, attractive staff in sharp uniforms, but by move-in day, you got a squad of seasoned retirees.


    The more upscale the building, the higher the standards.


    Huaxing Building, a premium commercial tower in the city center, naturally had top-tier property staff¡ªall between their twenties and thirties, fit, with legs for days, making them a visual highlight in the building.


    Someone once joked, *"Even the janitors at Huaxing have killer proportions."*


    No one knew which company first dubbed them the *"Huaxing Dream Team,"* but the nickname stuck.


    Still, while Huaxing¡¯s property staff were known for their efficiency, why were they here for an office relocation?


    **[Wait, since when does Huaxing offer moving services??]**


    **[Dream Team indeed¡ªone person lifting a whole desk like it¡¯s nothing.]**


    **[So what¡¯s the deal? Did management pay extra for this??]**


    The overworked, under-exercised professionals stepped aside, watching as the Huaxing staff efficiently disassembled and relocated their workstations¡ªwhile furiously typing in their side chats.


    **[I¡¯m so confused. Feels like we¡¯re being evicted.]**


    **[OMG!!! FRESH TEA ALERT!! Guess why we¡¯re moving!!!]**


    The moment this colleague dropped the hint, the previously slowing chat erupted.


    **[WHY??]**


    **[Don¡¯t leave us hanging¡ªSPILL.]**


    **[All ears.]**


    **[Hurry up!]**


    The coworker typed at lightning speed: **[You¡¯ll never believe this¡ªHuaxing Building has a new owner!!!]**


    The group fell silent for a second¡ªthen exploded even harder.


    **[No way. The whole building is privately owned??]**


    **[Holy crap. One person owns ALL of this??]**


    **[How much would that even cost???]**


    **[I¡¯m green with envy. Deeply, deeply green.]**


    **[This is the rich people¡¯s world, huh?]**


    **[How out of touch are you guys? In a city like this, where every inch of land costs a fortune, is it really that shocking for one person to own a 33-story commercial tower?]**


    **[Our floor¡¯s rent alone is insane. Can¡¯t imagine the price tag for the whole building.]**


    If earlier their mood was pure frustration, now it was sheer awe.


    **[Wild. Huaxing Building is someone¡¯s personal property.]**


    **[Off-topic, but back to the main issue¡ªwhy are WE moving??]**


    **[Did the boss piss off the new owner?]**


    **[Just another day in the corporate grind¡ªgetting kicked out mid-shift.]**


    The colleague continued sending messages: ¡¾Based on the insider info I gathered, this new owner isn''t just the landlord¡ªthey''re also opening a company on our floor, which is why we''re being relocated to the 31st floor.¡¿


    ¡¾So that''s the truth!¡¿


    ¡¾I thought our company was impressive enough, but when someone else wants the space, we still have to make way.¡¿


    ¡¾Wake up! We''re just leasing the office space, while they own the entire building!¡¿


    ¡¾Oh! Now I get it. That''s why the Huaxing elite team came to help with the move¡ªbecause the landlord wanted our floor.¡¿


    ¡¾Money truly makes the impossible possible.¡¿


    ¡¾What kind of company are they opening?¡¿


    Yes, some employees were already quietly considering whether they could make a small career jump if the new company aligned with their expertise.


    Unfortunately, the colleague with firsthand information didn¡¯t know what the company was, only that it was likely to open in the next few days.


    Amid the lively discussions, they smoothly transitioned from the 33rd floor to the 31st floor without much hassle.


    The Huaxing elite team lived up to their reputation, replicating nearly the entire office layout in such a short time and ensuring everything¡ªfrom the floors to the glass¡ªwas spotlessly clean.


    Just as the employees'' grievances had mostly dissipated, the well-dressed, long-legged team of handsome men and beautiful women wheeled in rows of food carts. Smiling, they addressed the approaching managers:


    ¡°We truly appreciate your company¡¯s cooperation in making space available. Chairman Sheng feels quite apologetic about the inconvenience. Since it¡¯s almost lunchtime, this is Chairman Sheng¡¯s treat¡ªa small token of gratitude for your understanding.¡±


    Free high-quality food? Of course they¡¯d accept.


    The managers exchanged polite words as the property team arranged the carts along the hallway before inviting the employees to help themselves.


    The curious employees finally got up to take a look.


    ¡°This is from Zhao Fang, right?¡±


    ¡°Yeah, it¡¯s Zhao Fang¡¯s takeout¡ªtheir logo is on the plates.¡±


    Everyone was astonished. Zhao Fang was a nearby restaurant that also offered delivery, but given the area, its prices were far from cheap. Even with their decent salaries, eating there occasionally still stung a little.


    And yet, the new owner had just treated hundreds of people to a meal from there.


    An accounting assistant couldn¡¯t resist mentally calculating the total cost.


    All they¡¯d done was relocate for an hour¡ªwithout even lifting a finger¡ªand in return, they were being treated to a feast.


    ¡°If all rich people were like this, I¡¯d love every wealthy person in the world,¡± one woman remarked as she picked up her portion, admiring the delicious-looking spread complete with dessert. ¡°They even included coffee!¡±


    A cup of coffee in Shanghai wasn¡¯t cheap. Even for well-paid professionals in this competitive, high-pressure city, saving where possible was always welcome.


    Now, any lingering resentment had vanished. As they savored the expensive meal and sipped their bitter yet energizing coffee, they could only chant inwardly, ¡°Long live the landlord!¡±


    Gu Zhao had no objections to Sheng Quan¡¯s arrangements. He knew his place¡ªas a subordinate, how could he question his superior¡¯s decisions?


    Besides, he thought her approach was quite effective. ¡°You¡¯re very skilled at winning people over,¡± the CEO remarked.


    By doing this, Sheng Quan ensured that both the employees and the subsidized property staff would remember her kindness¡ªvaluable goodwill for a new company looking to recruit talent.


    Sheng Quan smiled. ¡°Maybe.¡±


    She understood what Gu Zhao meant.


    But her true motivation was simpler: if she could easily brighten the day of hardworking employees¡ªpeople just like her past self¡ªwhy wouldn¡¯t she?


    For her, it was just a few words, but for them, it meant an instant mood boost. A small effort for a big payoff.


    Gu Zhao, however, found Sheng Quan exceeding his expectations.


    ¡°You¡¯re impressive. Everyone who interacts with you comes away with a favorable impression.¡±


    For a company¡¯s leader, the ability to inspire loyalty was already a major advantage¡ªand Sheng Quan had both the skills and the strategic mind to back it up.


    Sheng Quan laughed. ¡°What, do you feel obligated to flatter your boss now?¡±


    Gu Zhao remained as calm as ever. ¡°Flattery is a bad habit. It breeds arrogance and complacency in leaders. Therefore, I do not flatter you.¡±


    ¡°Alright then.¡± Sheng Quan patted his shoulder encouragingly.


    Though new to being a boss, she wielded motivational rhetoric with ease: ¡°Keep up the good work. Together, we¡¯ll achieve our goals.¡±


    At the mention of goals, Gu Zhao¡¯s light-colored eyes brightened. His usually cold, handsome face became even more striking¡ªalmost glowing.


    ¡°Yes. I¡¯ll give it my all.¡±


    It was almost comical how a simple phrase could energize him so much.


    Sheng Quan suspected he hadn¡¯t been on the receiving end of many motivational speeches before.


    In a way, she no longer envied her past bosses¡ªbecause Gu Zhao was even more of a workaholic than she¡¯d been. The difference? He was a willing and enthusiastic one.


    Once the 33rd floor was vacated, Gu Zhao swiftly claimed a suite, directing the setup of office furniture, a large bed, and everything else needed to turn it into a hybrid workspace-living space.


    Sheng Quan was surprised. ¡°Are you planning to live here?¡±


    Gu Zhao: ¡°No, this is just temporary.¡±


    She sighed in relief. Even a workaholic wouldn¡¯t go *that* far, right?


    Then he added: ¡°This one doesn¡¯t have plumbing yet. Installing a bathroom takes time. Once the other room is ready, I¡¯ll move there.¡±


    ¡°If you permit me to live in the office, I¡¯ll stay here permanently.¡±


    Sheng Quan: ¡°...If you¡¯re fine with it, I won¡¯t object.¡±


    Gu Zhao gave her a puzzled look, clearly not understanding why he *wouldn¡¯t* be fine with it.


    To him, the office was the perfect residence¡ªwake up and work, finish work and sleep. What could be better?


    Sheng Quan: ...*Whatever makes you happy.*


    At least, as the boss, she¡¯d reap the benefits of such dedication.


    As Gu Zhao fulfilled his dream of ¡°making the office his home¡± and rapidly built the company¡¯s foundation, word of ¡°Huitong¡¯s relocation¡± spread throughout Huaxing Building.


    Some who knew Huitong¡¯s CEO even voiced indignation: ¡°Making you move before your lease is up¡ªcouldn¡¯t they wait two months? This person doesn¡¯t sound easy to deal with.¡±


    Huitong¡¯s CEO quickly corrected them: ¡°Don¡¯t talk nonsense. Chairman Sheng is *very* easy to work with.¡±


    The other person was taken aback at first, then his expression shifted to one of knowing amusement. "Go on, what benefits did they offer you?"


    The CEO of Huiteng, holding a teacup, smiled like a seasoned fox. "All I can say is, don¡¯t let Chairman Sheng¡¯s youth fool you¡ªshe handles business and people with remarkable generosity."


    "I¡¯ve heard about that too. They say this Chairman Sheng is just in her early twenties. Tsk, what envy. When I was that age, my net worth had barely crossed a million, and she already owns an entire building."


    "You were a reckless kid at twenty¡ªhow could you compare?"


    The man seemed half-convinced, half-skeptical. "You¡¯re making this Chairman Sheng sound like some once-in-a-generation prodigy. Is it really true?"


    The Huiteng CEO took a slow sip of tea. "You¡¯ll understand once you meet her yourself. These days, someone with both brains and that kind of wealth can thrive anywhere. And when someone¡¯s *that* rich, who knows who¡¯s backing them? Best to stay on their good side if you can."


    The man probing for information immediately caught the implied warning. Raising his teacup with a smile, he said, "Don¡¯t underestimate me. At my age, I know better. I just heard she¡¯s running an entertainment company and wanted to know if she¡¯s serious about it."


    "I¡¯ve cleared out the entire 33rd floor for her. What do *you* think?" The Huiteng CEO chuckled. "Plus, she¡¯s brought in Gu Zhao. That alone tells you she¡¯s going all out. Sure, you¡¯re in the same industry, but competitors don¡¯t always have to be rivals. There¡¯s always room for collaboration."


    "Yeah, I get it. I was just wondering¡ªwho¡¯s behind her? I¡¯ve never heard of any prominent family named Sheng."


    At this, the Huiteng CEO slowly set down his teacup¡ªa clear signal that the conversation was over. "Lao Zhao, we¡¯ve known each other for years. I¡¯d like us both to retire peacefully."


    That single sentence left President Zhao utterly speechless.


    Whatever little schemes he¡¯d been entertaining now wavered uncertainly in his mind.


    The moment he stepped out, he immediately called his secretary, ordering him to rush out and buy congratulatory flower baskets for the grand opening. He wanted to extend the warmest wishes to this new industry peer.


    After President Zhao hurried off, the secretary poured tea for the Huiteng CEO. "That really gave President Zhao quite the scare."


    "Good. He needed it. Otherwise, he might¡¯ve thought he could pull something shady just because she¡¯s young. Has he not considered? A kid who can buy an entire building doesn¡¯t come without powerful backing."


    The Huiteng CEO had no interest in sitting back and watching the drama unfold. He saw Sheng Quan as someone worth befriending and was eager to build a rapport with the rising star.


    The secretary agreed. "Your decision to relocate the top floor has caused quite a stir. It¡¯s all over the place, even online. Should we try to suppress it?"


    "Suppress what? No need." The CEO sipped his tea leisurely. "In their line of work, exposure is a good thing. As for us? It doesn¡¯t hurt. Even if we end up being a stepping stone for young Chairman Sheng, so what?"


    He tapped the contract for the Huaxing Building renewal on the table. "Besides, she¡¯s already prepaid the stepping fee."


    With the Huiteng CEO not only ignoring the rumors but actively fanning the flames, gossip about ¡¾Huaxing Building Changes Hands¡ªNew Owner Takes Over the 33rd Floor¡¿spread like wildfire.


    It started with an anonymous post by a Huiteng employee, who recounted the incident in a tone of awe-struck bystander witnessing the whims of the ultra-rich.


    Their now-famous line: ¡¾She owns the skyscraper. I own this post. We¡¯re both landlords.¡¿


    Many Huiteng employees who¡¯d enjoyed the ¡¾lavish lunch hosted by Chairman Sheng¡¿ couldn¡¯t resist chiming in. As the post gained traction, someone suddenly spotted a connection.


    **CaramelSunflower:** *"Sheng? Starting an entertainment company? Doesn¡¯t this sound like that legendary book fan from a while back¡ªthe one who dropped a million just to stop a production from butchering the source material?"*


    **RandomCitrusCreature:** *"Yes! That girl was also surnamed Sheng. The crew leaked that she was in her early twenties, really pretty, and super into fitness. Everyone called her ¡®Chairman Sheng.¡¯"*


    **ObsessedWithTragicBeauties:** *"They also said she treated the whole crew to meals all the time."*


    The dots were connecting. One by one.


    **CasualRedPandaPasserby:** *"In those old screenshots, didn¡¯t she say it was her first time signing someone? What if... she signed Yan Hui, that ridiculously handsome jianbing vendor, and then started an entire entertainment company just for him?"*


    **BigBunnyBastard:** *"Is this how the rich operate? Staring at the jianbing in my hand, suddenly questioning all my life choices."*


    **MelonMuncher:** *"Wait, there¡¯s more. The OP said the building was recently sold. And the reason she bought it... do I even need to spell it out?"*


    No, she didn¡¯t. The logic was crystal clear.


    **[So, to house her new company... she bought an entire high-rise in a tier-one city?!]**

 Chapter 14

    Lin Aike had just finished filming when her assistant excitedly rushed over with a phone in hand: "Keke, your Weibo followers are skyrocketing again!"


    "What''s going on?" Lin Aike was both surprised and delighted. "Didn''t the last surge die down already?"


    Had the company started promoting her? But her agent had said they¡¯d wait until the drama aired to begin marketing.


    The assistant handed her the phone: "It¡¯s President Sheng! President Sheng is trending again!"


    Lin Aike froze. Hadn¡¯t the buzz about that wealthy fan already faded? Had some influencer reignited the hype?


    But when she took the phone, her jaw dropped.


    "Huaxing Building belongs to President Sheng?!!!"


    Many entertainment companies were based in Shanghai, including Lin Aike¡¯s agency. Having spent considerable time there, she knew exactly what Huaxing Building represented.


    "Right? Look¡ªsome sharp-eyed netizens dug it up. Huaxing Building was recently transferred, and the new owner has the surname Sheng."


    Lin Aike was still dazed. "Could it just be a coincidence? Someone else with the same surname?"


    "Unlikely!" The assistant was practically bouncing. "President Sheng just started her company, right? It all lines up! And didn¡¯t you say she told you she planned to set up in Shanghai?"


    Lin Aike instantly recalled that moment.


    After their late-night snack, as they walked back, Sheng Quan sipped milk tea and nibbled on a leftover skewer, casually mentioning:


    "I¡¯m planning to open a company in Shanghai too. Come visit me when it¡¯s ready."


    Having rented apartments before, Lin Aike eagerly shared a slew of rental tips¡ªmost of them complaints like, "You¡¯ll never guess what your neighbors are up to."


    Sheng Quan listened while finishing her skewer and milk tea, then summed it up: "True, it¡¯s never ideal when it¡¯s not your own turf. So I¡¯ll probably set up on my own property."


    At the time, Lin Aike assumed "property" meant a modest floor in an ordinary office building.


    But now it turned out President Sheng¡¯s "turf" was an entire commercial skyscraper?!


    And the craziest part? She¡¯d just bought it.


    Lin Aike knew Sheng Quan was wealthy, but not this wealthy!


    Until now, she¡¯d assumed President Sheng was just a generous upper-middle-class heiress. Plenty of rich kids could spare a million or two, though most weren¡¯t interested in showbiz.


    But buying an entire building¡ªand a prime one like Huaxing Building? You could count the people in Shanghai with that kind of money on one hand.


    "No wonder... No wonder General Manager Wu from Yusuo Media was fawning over President Sheng..."


    Lin Aike stared at her own hands, murmuring, "I held hands with a tycoon who owns a skyscraper in Shanghai... and went to eat barbecue with her."


    "We toasted with skewered chicken hearts."


    "We ogled handsome guys together."


    "I even turned down her offer of milk tea because I was watching my weight."


    Given another chance, she¡¯d only say: Fatten me up.


    The rest of the crew were equally stunned.


    Zhou Zhi: "Holy crap, how many billions is that?"


    Wang Zheng was already punching numbers into a calculator, then showed Zhou Zhi the result.


    Zhou Zhi: "Ones, tens, hundreds... I never dreamed I¡¯d live to count past a hundred million... Wow, my follower count is exploding even faster now. Am I about to go viral overnight thanks to President Sheng?!"


    Lin Aike: "We¡¯re all about to go viral. If Director Wan hadn¡¯t refused interviews, reporters would be swarming us for details about President Sheng¡¯s time on set."


    "Yan Hui, check your Weibo¡ªyour followers must be soaring. You¡¯re the one President Sheng personally signed. Everyone¡¯s gotta be curious about you."


    Yan Hui nodded and pulled out his phone, but before he could check, it rang¡ªSheng Quan calling.


    The previously chatty cast fell silent instantly. Outwardly calm, they were practically leaning in to eavesdrop.


    Truthfully, Yan Hui was nervous too, flattered that someone as wealthy as Sheng Quan had chosen him. He knew he wasn¡¯t exceptionally handsome, his personality was reserved, and while his acting was solid, plenty in the industry could match it.


    To her, signing him might be trivial, but to him, it had reshaped his entire future.


    "Company housing¡¯s ready, near the office. Head straight there after wrap. Also, I¡¯ve talked to Wan Bao¡ªwe¡¯re rescheduling your scenes for the next two days so you can shoot for *The Crane Years* first."


    Yan Hui agreed immediately: "I¡¯ll go tonight."


    "Good. Oh, and we¡¯re hiring agents. Any you¡¯d particularly like to work with?"


    Yan Hui¡¯s eyes brightened slightly, his usually gentle voice tinged with hope¡ªand a hint of uncertainty:


    "There is one. She¡¯s still at another agency, but I think she¡¯d jump at the chance to join us."


    On the other end, Sheng Quan smiled.


    She knew exactly who he meant. In fact, she¡¯d anticipated his answer before even asking.


    Yuan Zixin.


    In *Starlight*, her fate was bleak: a talented agent repeatedly forced out of jobs, vanishing without a trace.


    Mentioned only once in passing through Yan Hui¡¯s perspective, readers barely noticed her.


    But Sheng Quan admired her¡ªdeeply.


    ***


    "Yuan Zixin!!!"


    A file slammed onto the desk. Her boss fumed: "Thank god the contract¡¯s signed, or how would you explain this to upstairs? Did you not see? General Manager Wu wanted to chat with Ming Qi, and when you interfered, his face turned thunderous."


    Yuan Zixin picked up the contract: "''Chat''? If I hadn¡¯t stepped in, his hand would¡¯ve been under Ming Qi¡¯s skirt. She was in tears, and that creep kept groping her. Disgusting."


    "What could we do? He¡¯s a known predator. And you¡ªeveryone else just sat there. At worst, he¡¯d cop a feel. Why provoke him? Now management¡¯s pissed, and even I can¡¯t shield you."


    Her boss massaged his temples. "You¡¯re brilliant at your job, but this knight-in-shining-armor complex? This isn¡¯t a wuxia drama. I get it¡ªyou want to protect the young artists. But half of them won¡¯t even thank you."


    "Take Wen Guang. You shielded him spotlessly, helped him blow up. And his repayment? Dropped you, then blamed you for not landing him better gigs. Makes my blood boil!"


    Hearing the name Wen Guang, Yuan Zixin''s expression darkened for a moment: "This was indeed my oversight. I didn¡¯t expect him to put on such an act right in front of me. But Ming Qi made it clear to me¡ªshe doesn¡¯t want to gain resources through such methods."


    "What she wants doesn¡¯t matter. The company wants it. They signed her to make money," her superior sighed. "Even if Ming Qi refuses, or you or I disapprove, what difference does it make? This industry is just like that. If you can¡¯t change it, you might as well turn a blind eye."


    "Enough, let¡¯s drop it. This is always your problem. Later, come with me to apologize to General Manager Wu and try to smooth things over. Don¡¯t let this happen again."


    Yuan Zixin shook her head with a bitter smile. "Boss, I really can¡¯t do it. My conscience won¡¯t allow it. Maybe I¡¯m just not cut out for this industry. I¡¯ve thought about it for a long time, and I¡¯ve decided it¡¯s better to resign. Thank you for tolerating me for so long."


    As she turned to leave, her superior suddenly called out, "Zixin."


    Yuan Zixin turned back and saw the conflicted look on his face.


    "I used to be like you too. But you have to understand¡ªpeople need to survive. If everyone is shady and you¡¯re the only one who¡¯s clean, you¡¯ll be ostracized no matter where you go."


    "If you ever change your mind, there¡¯ll always be a place for you here."


    Yuan Zixin stood still for a second but ultimately walked away.


    "Thank you, but I don¡¯t think I¡¯ll be back."


    She packed her belongings in her office, and before long, news of Yuan Zixin¡¯s resignation spread throughout the company.


    Some colleagues came to see her off, urging her to swallow her pride and make amends with the higher-ups. Ming Qi burst in, tears streaming down her face, asking if Yuan Zixin was resigning because she had helped her.


    "It¡¯s my fault. If I hadn¡¯t asked for your help, this wouldn¡¯t have happened. I¡¯ll go apologize to them. Please don¡¯t leave, Sister Yuan."


    Yuan Zixin reached out and wiped Ming Qi¡¯s tears away. "It¡¯s not your fault. I was never a good fit for this place to begin with."


    She advised, "After I¡¯m gone, you¡¯ll have to stand up for yourself, understand? You¡¯re practically half of the company¡¯s cash cow now. They only push you around because you¡¯re too soft. But if you toughen up, they won¡¯t dare cross you¡ªthey can¡¯t afford to lose both you and the money."


    Ming Qi nodded between sobs. With her delicate, pretty features, even crying uncontrollably, she looked heartbreakingly beautiful¡ªlike a pear blossom drenched in rain.


    "I¡¯ll remember. I¡¯ll focus on acting, on doing my best. When I become a big star, I¡¯ll hire you back as my manager."


    Yuan Zixin couldn¡¯t help but laugh at her tearful yet determined vow. "You know, someone else once said the same thing to me."


    Ming Qi, barely an adult and still naive despite her grief, was instantly curious, her reddened eyes blinking open. "Who?"


    "Another hopeless do-gooder like me."


    Yuan Zixin¡¯s tone was self-deprecating as she said "hopeless do-gooder." In the entertainment industry, helping others had somehow become something to mock, a sign of being foolish.


    Sometimes, the very people they tried to rescue would even turn against them.


    Ming Qi asked hesitantly, "What happened to them?"


    Now?


    Yuan Zixin recalled the trending topic she¡¯d seen earlier that day, flashing back to the image of a young, green Yan Hui shielding another artist, his body trembling but his stance stubbornly firm as he declared, "This is a crime. Take one more step, and I¡¯ll call the police."


    Ten years had passed in the blink of an eye.


    Looking at Ming Qi, as inexperienced as Yan Hui had been back then, Yuan Zixin patted her head. "Well... he was lucky. He met a very good person."


    That young, sincere, and purely admiring Miss Sheng Quan.


    Yuan Zixin was happy for him¡ªand a little envious, too.


    But now, none of that mattered to her anymore.


    As she left the company, Yuan Zixin ran into Wen Guang.


    Her expression remained completely unreadable.


    Wen Guang, on the other hand, looked both smug and uneasy.


    As they passed each other, he suddenly stopped and turned to call after her, "No other company will take you in. If you quit this industry, you won¡¯t even be able to make ends meet."


    Yuan Zixin ignored him and strode out of the building.


    The moment she stepped outside, her phone rang.


    She freed a hand to answer. "Hello?"


    "Hello, this is Sheng Quan."


    Standing before the floor-to-ceiling window on the 33rd floor of Huaxing Building, Sheng Quan gazed down at the bustling traffic below.


    "Are you open to a job offer?"

 Chapter 15

    On the day the hashtag #RichFanGirlBuysABuildingToStartCompany trended, Yuan Zixin found herself sitting across from this very "rich fan girl" in a cafe?.


    Honestly, it felt surreal.


    While netizens were still busy speculating and verifying rumors, Yuan Zixin had already gotten the inside scoop¡ªnot only confirming that the building was indeed under Sheng Quan¡¯s name but also learning that the CEO of Starlight Company was Gu Zhao.


    Money, a building, and Gu Zhao.


    To Yuan Zixin, this company might as well have slapped the words "boundless potential" on its signboard.


    When she¡¯d resigned from her last job, she¡¯d felt fearless, even serene. Back then, she¡¯d thought to herself: *Ugh, I¡¯m so done with these awful people and their nonsense. Might as well go back to my hometown and raise chickens.*


    But now... Yuan Zixin maintained a perfectly calm expression as she sipped her coffee, her eyes darting briefly over to Sheng Quan¡ªwho was currently reviewing her resume¡ªbefore snapping back.


    She¡¯d rushed back to her rented apartment to grab this resume last-minute. Thankfully, she had a habit of keeping physical copies, sparing her the awkwardness of sending an electronic file during an in-person interview.


    Her roommate had gaped in bewilderment as Yuan Zixin stormed in and out like a whirlwind, the question *"What the hell are you doing?"* barely leaving their lips before she was already gone.


    Though she considered her resume impressive, interviewing for a small-time company was a world apart from interviewing for one where the boss owned an entire building and had casually reserved an entire floor of Huaxing Building as office space.


    Most importantly, Yuan Zixin could tell that this CEO, Sheng Quan, was nothing like her previous bosses.


    She wanted to seize this opportunity.


    Even as her mind raced with thoughts, Yuan Zixin kept her composure flawlessly, projecting an air of unwavering confidence.


    ¡ªEven though, internally, she was *freaking out*.


    Then, Sheng Quan finished reading the resume, smiled, and extended a hand. *"You really are an excellent agent. Welcome to Starlight Entertainment."*


    For some reason, hearing Sheng Quan¡¯s praise made Yuan Zixin¡¯s nose sting, an unexpected urge to cry rising in her chest.


    Maybe it was because no one had genuinely acknowledged her like this in a long time.


    She swallowed the lump in her throat, smiled, and stood to shake Sheng Quan¡¯s hand.


    *"Thank you. I¡¯m honored."*


    Sheng Quan *had* read every word of that resume thoroughly.


    While she admired Yuan Zixin¡¯s credentials, business was still business. Just like in filmmaking, if a growing company let its boss shove anyone they fancied into key positions, it wouldn¡¯t last long.


    Sheng Quan had big ambitions¡ªshe wasn¡¯t about to sabotage her own empire.


    Of course, as the boss, she *did* allow herself a tiny privilege. Interviews weren¡¯t technically her job, but if she wanted to personally conduct one, no one would stop her.


    That said, Sheng Quan wasn¡¯t just being nice. Yuan Zixin¡¯s resume *was* impressive.


    The success rate of the artists she¡¯d managed was significantly higher than average¡ªthough, admittedly, so was her job-hopping frequency.


    Wen Guang hadn¡¯t been wrong: Yuan Zixin changed jobs so often it was less like holding a position and more like rotating through an industry-wide internship. Over a decade, she¡¯d practically worked at every major company in the field.


    After leaving her last firm, no reputable company in the industry would hire her¡ªunless she stooped to fly-by-night agencies, which were even more toxic and unethical than the corporate giants.


    In fact, just two hours ago, even Yuan Zixin had resigned herself to the idea of returning home to raise chickens.


    And now? She was following her new billionaire boss into an elevator inside a dazzling high-rise.


    Huaxing Building housed numerous companies, its workforce numbering in the tens of thousands. No matter how many elevators there were, peak hours always meant packed rides.


    Yuan Zixin¡¯s previous job had been the same¡ªmornings were manageable with some waiting, but evenings meant stopping at nearly every floor.


    Yet here she was, standing behind Sheng Quan as the elevator soared smoothly, uninterrupted, to the 33rd floor.


    When the doors opened, two young receptionists immediately stood up. *"Good afternoon, Chairwoman."*


    Yuan Zixin did a double-take before realizing they were twins¡ªtwo clean-cut young men. While not strikingly handsome, they were undeniably pleasant-looking, their uniforms and long legs adding to the appeal.


    Noticing Yuan Zixin¡¯s glance, Sheng Quan said to them:


    *"This is our new executive agent. Escort her to HR for the paperwork."*


    The elder twin stepped forward with a sunny smile. *"Of course. Please follow me."*


    As Yuan Zixin walked away, she overheard the younger twin chirping to Sheng Quan: *"Chairwoman, look at the flowers I just bought! Don¡¯t they brighten up the space?"*


    She couldn¡¯t help glancing back, catching sight of the boy¡ªfresh out of college, still exuding youthful enthusiasm¡ªeagerly showing off his floral arrangement.


    Then there was the elder twin, identical in face but far more composed, his smile warm and professional.


    If not for the fact that Sheng Quan was merely examining the flowers¡ªand the fact that Sheng Quan herself was young and attractive¡ªYuan Zixin might¡¯ve let her imagination run wild.


    Sheng Quan noticed Yuan Zixin¡¯s lingering look.


    She didn¡¯t need to guess what weird assumptions were forming in the woman¡¯s mind, but this *wasn¡¯t* her doing. Sure, she had a *slight* preference for aesthetically pleasing people, but she hadn¡¯t ordered HR to hire a pair of handsome twin boys as receptionists.


    Nope. That was all Gu Zhao¡¯s handiwork.


    The phrase *"devoted to his career"* might as well have been coined for him. But his workaholism wasn¡¯t the chaotic, self-destructive kind¡ªit was meticulously planned to ensure he could sustain it long-term.


    Part of that plan involved catering to Chairwoman Sheng Quan¡¯s preferences (within reason) and ensuring her impression of the company remained favorable at all times.


    After officially joining Starlight, he¡¯d doubled down on his own grooming standards. Once HR was in place, he¡¯d discreetly suggested prioritizing candidates who were both competent *and* easy on the eyes¡ªeven adding *"neat attire"* and *"fresh scent"* to the employee handbook.


    His justification? *"As employees of an entertainment company, image matters."*


    Gu Zhao didn¡¯t stop at words. He even designed an employee shower room to prevent post-overtime body odor.


    Sheng Quan thought he was overdoing it.


    Gu Zhao: *"If the office reeked, would you visit often?"*


    She *wanted* to say yes.


    But... imagining the scenario, she *would* absolutely indulge her freedom as the boss to come and go as she pleased.


    Back when she¡¯d been a corporate drone, she¡¯d had no choice. Now? She wasn¡¯t about to torture herself.


    Gu Zhao calmly stated with his handsome face: "You are the backbone of the company. I must ensure you never have any complaints about it."


    Then, he hired this pair of young, good-looking twin boys as receptionists.


    Whether it was because of his authority as the CEO or Sheng Quan¡¯s status as the company¡¯s most important figure, every time she came to the office, the twins greeted her with overwhelming enthusiasm.


    Even an offhand comment from her about buying a pot of flowers for the entrance was treated like an unbreakable decree.


    She suspected it was the former.


    Because now, after she expressed her fondness for the flowers, the boy named Little He reported to her:


    "CEO Gu had flowers placed in your office too."


    Sheng Quan: Typical of Gu Zhao.


    A top student is always a top student¡ªwhen he sets his mind to something, he never fails.


    She figured Gu Zhao was naturally meticulous, striving for perfection in everything. But after enduring two terrible bosses, he¡¯d successfully become... a bit extreme.


    Still, she had to admit¡ªthough she might say, "Isn¡¯t this a bit much?"¡ªbeing the one lavished with such attention felt incredibly satisfying.


    Especially when she pushed open the door and saw those meticulously cared-for, beautiful flowers blooming vibrantly under the sunlight.


    And knowing that sunlight streamed in through her luxurious floor-to-ceiling windows made it even more delightful.


    Most importantly, Gu Zhao¡¯s approach had no downsides.


    He hired employees based on looks and physique, but it never hindered the company¡¯s growth. His rules were exhaustive, yet new hires never complained.


    Why?


    Because the benefits were just too good!


    ***


    "Our company has such great benefits? And they provide housing??!"


    Yuan Zixin had initially been overwhelmed by the dense list of company regulations. But when the HR rep asked if she needed accommodation arranged, her mind immediately fixated on the bolded words: "housing included."


    In a city like Shanghai, free meals might be common, but free housing? Almost unheard of.


    The reason was simple: rent was astronomical.


    Especially since company housing would have to be nearby. Small firms in remote areas might manage, but for a company like Starlight Entertainment, located in the heart of the city, even a tiny room without a living area would cost a fortune.


    And now, she was being offered "arranged housing"?


    The HR rep, clearly used to such reactions, maintained her sweet smile and explained, "The company does provide housing, but accommodations vary by position. My dorm is on South Cheng Road, but as an executive assistant, yours would be on the first or second floor of this building, in the side wing."


    There was a corner there, intentionally separated from the rest of the floor during design¡ªperfect for dorms.


    Yuan Zixin nearly doubted her ears: "First or second floor... you mean this skyscraper¡¯s first or second floor?"


    The HR rep nodded, a hint of envy creeping into her voice. "Yes, no commute needed."


    Commuting in Shanghai was a nightmare, with rush hours rivaling holiday travel chaos. Countless people woke up at six only to arrive at work by nine.


    Yuan Zixin was dizzy from this stroke of luck, but even in her daze, her social graces remained intact:


    "South Cheng Road isn¡¯t bad either¡ªjust a few subway stops away."


    "True." The HR rep¡¯s expression brightened. "And if you get promoted or stay long enough, you can upgrade your dorm. After two years, I¡¯ll be eligible to move to the first or second floor too."


    Her eyes sparkled with anticipation. "The longer you stay, the bigger the space. As an executive assistant, you¡¯ll have better promotion chances. Work hard, and maybe you¡¯ll even reach CEO Gu¡¯s level someday."


    Yuan Zixin¡¯s curiosity piqued. "CEO Gu has a dorm too?"


    From what she knew, Gu Zhao was wealthy¡ªafter all, he was a shareholder in Wansheng.


    At the very least, he owned property in Shanghai. His clothes were clearly tailored, and every time she¡¯d seen him, he wore luxury watches worth hundreds of thousands.


    Yet he lived in company housing?


    The HR rep nodded. "Yes, his dorm is on the 33rd floor, directly connected to his office. I¡¯ve never been inside, but Little Jiang and Little He from reception say it¡¯s at least 120 square meters, with a sofa, kitchen, bathtub¡ªall top-tier brands. That fridge alone..."


    She glanced around and lowered her voice conspiratorially. "Cost 300,000! The bathtub was nearly 70,000."


    A 70,000-yuan bathtub. A 300,000-yuan fridge. Yuan Zixin was stunned. Her thoughts immediately shifted from "Why would a CEO live in a dorm?" to "How is this even considered employee housing?"


    Only a company whose boss owned an entire Shanghai skyscraper could pull this off.


    If Sheng Quan knew they were gossiping about this, she¡¯d have to clarify:


    The 300,000-yuan fridge was real. The leather sofa, high-end kitchenware, and 70,000-yuan bathtub were all real.


    But they belonged to Gu Zhao personally¡ªthe company hadn¡¯t paid a cent.


    Others might be picky about beds, but he was picky about everything. He insisted on replicating his entire living space exactly as he was used to.


    Even the office-turned-suite renovation was funded entirely by him. He never asked Sheng Quan for a single yuan in "decoration fees."


    When Sheng Quan asked why he didn¡¯t expense it, he replied that such trivial matters weren¡¯t worth the time required for reimbursement paperwork. That time could be spent on more important tasks.


    At that moment, Sheng Quan had wanted to ask: "With all this money, why don¡¯t you just start your own company?"


    Of course, she didn¡¯t voice such a nai?ve question.


    Gu Zhao might have millions¡ªor more¡ªbut that still wouldn¡¯t cover the constant cash flow demands of an entertainment company.


    Take their current office floor, for example. Renting it privately would bleed Gu Zhao dry over time.


    So he¡¯d chosen to step back and work under someone else.


    Fortunately, he had zero interest in being the top beneficiary of the company. He only had two requirements for a business partner:


    1. Money.


    2. A functioning brain.


    Aside from Gu Zhao¡¯s uncanny ability to detect Sheng Quan¡¯s preferences and swiftly cater to them with his efficiency, he was otherwise an ideal "three-no" subordinate:


    No embezzlement, no power grabs, no defiance.


    Under such circumstances, if he wanted 150 square meters for his "work suite," Sheng Quan would gladly oblige¡ªheck, she¡¯d give him the entire floor if he asked.


    "I don¡¯t need a whole floor," Gu Zhao said evenly, jogging on the treadmill. Clearly, he was no stranger to fitness, given how effortlessly he spoke while running. "150 square meters meets all my needs."


    "As long as you¡¯re satisfied," Sheng Quan replied.


    Sheng Quan sat on her exorbitantly expensive sofa¡ªand truth be told, the price tag was justified. The comfort rivaled that of the suite sofa in her luxury hotel.


    After reviewing and signing the document in her hand, she waved it at Gu Zhao, who was jogging on the treadmill with a light sheen of sweat on his forehead. "Signed. Should I leave it here?"


    "Please place it on my office desk. This is the relaxation area," Gu Zhao replied, stopping the treadmill. He wiped his sweat with a sports towel and glanced at the watch on the coffee table. "It''s time to prepare lunch. If you don¡¯t have any prior engagements, would you like to try my cooking?"


    Sheng Quan, who had been about to leave, immediately sat back down.


    Frankly, she had nothing else planned for the day¡ªand more importantly, she was genuinely curious about what Gu Zhao¡¯s cooking would be like.


    There was something almost miraculous about Gu Zhao. His daily workload was easily over ten times heavier than Sheng Quan¡¯s, yet he somehow carved out time for exercise, fitness, and preparing his own meals.


    The term "exceptional" didn¡¯t even begin to cover it.


    Though she couldn¡¯t emulate his discipline, she couldn¡¯t help but admire him for it.


    Twenty minutes later, Sheng Quan silently swallowed a bite of food¡ªand promptly retracted that admiration.


    Struggling to keep her expression neutral, she took a sip of water to wash it down before finally asking Gu Zhao, who was calmly and methodically eating his meal:


    "Don¡¯t you think... this meat is a bit bland?"


    Gu Zhao nodded. "It is. However, the recommended daily salt intake for adults is less than six grams. For health reasons, I minimize salt in my cooking. I¡¯d suggest you also reduce your sodium intake¡ªit¡¯s beneficial in the long run."


    Sheng Quan stared. "This isn¡¯t six grams. It¡¯s 0.6 grams, at best."


    She then pointed at the vividly green pile on her plate. "Is this... boiled greens?"


    Gu Zhao confirmed.


    Sheng Quan inspected it closely. "You didn¡¯t use any oil?"


    Despite eating plain boiled vegetables, Gu Zhao managed to exude the elegance of someone savoring a gourmet dish, finishing every bite swiftly.


    "I did, though perhaps sparingly. For health considerations, I generally opt for low oil, low salt, and low sugar."


    Sheng Quan¡¯s gaze shifted to the neatly chopped boiled corn beside it. "And this? Don¡¯t tell me this is your main course."


    "The afternoon is the most productive part of the day, but heavy carbohydrates induce drowsiness. Hence, I usually have sweet potatoes or corn for lunch¡ªnutritious, time-efficient, and conducive to mental clarity. Three benefits in one."


    Sheng Quan: "..."


    Now she understood why Gu Zhao only needed twenty minutes to cook.


    The fact that he still had a full head of hair was nothing short of a miracle.


    She asked, "Have you ever invited anyone else to eat your cooking before?"


    Gu Zhao: "You¡¯re the first."


    Sheng Quan raised an eyebrow. "What about the other two who co-founded Wansheng with you?"


    Gu Zhao replied bluntly, "They didn¡¯t deserve it."


    Sheng Quan: "..."


    She glanced at the boiled greens, boiled corn, boiled meat, and the accompanying boiled egg on her plate, unsure whether to pity those two or not.


    Perhaps sensing her thoughts, Gu Zhao dabbed his lips with a napkin and clarified,


    "Rest assured, Chairman Sheng, this diet is entirely health-conscious. It efficiently replenishes the body¡¯s energy and facilitates a swift return to work."


    He sat rigidly upright, giving Sheng Quan the impression that his lunch invitation was more of a professional loyalty gesture.


    But her focus lingered on the faint frown he couldn¡¯t quite suppress. "Do you actually enjoy eating this?"


    Gu Zhao paused. "It¡¯s optimal for maintaining bodily functions."


    Sheng Quan countered pointedly, "That¡¯s not what I asked. Does it taste good?"


    Gu Zhao fell silent.


    Her eyes drifted to his stomach, concealed beneath his impeccably tailored suit. "Didn¡¯t you skip lunch yesterday? Please don¡¯t tell me you have stomach issues too?"


    After a beat, Gu Zhao explained, "My gastric condition stems from past habits, unrelated to my current diet, which is scientifically balanced."


    Sheng Quan: "Right. Got it."


    Of course. Even as a CEO with a full head of hair, Gu Zhao hadn¡¯t escaped the classic "overworked executive stomach ailment."


    In novels, ailing CEOs were usually depicted pale and immobilized by pain, requiring tender care and homemade congee from the female lead.


    In reality, Gu Zhao¡ªunfazed by his stomach troubles¡ªhad just jogged for an hour on the treadmill and was now stoically munching on boiled corn and greens.


    Wordlessly, Sheng Quan finished the "nutritious" meal he¡¯d prepared.


    Only then did she rise. "Alright. It¡¯s about time our company opened a cafeteria."


    "A healthy, green, but actually delicious cafeteria." (Yes, "delicious" was non-negotiable.)


    Gu Zhao looked down at his plate of corn. "I believe¡ª"


    "No, you don¡¯t," Sheng Quan cut in. "You sleep six hours a day, start working before dawn, squeeze in one hour of exercise, then work until nightfall. Out of 24 hours, 16 are spent laboring for me. If I don¡¯t at least feed you properly, I¡¯ll start feeling like some exploitative tycoon."


    Gu Zhao sat motionless, momentarily stunned. When he lifted his gaze, his pale gray eyes held rare confusion. "The company is still in its growth phase. Hard work is expected."


    Now Sheng Quan understood how Wansheng had thrived despite its two other co-founders being deadweight.


    But she wasn¡¯t like them.


    Gu Zhao was an exemplary subordinate¡ªthe kind of relentlessly efficient workhorse every boss dreamt of. But while Sheng Quan wanted prosperity, she wasn¡¯t aiming for prosperity built on corpses.


    Standing over him, their eyes locked, she said slowly, "I¡¯ve always considered a cafeteria. First, as an employee benefit to attract top talent. Second, given our involvement with artists who require strict dietary control, it¡¯s practically essential."


    When Gu Zhao nodded silently, she pressed on, "You know chronic gastritis can lead to gastric cancer, right?"


    The CEO showed no reaction.


    Sheng Quan wasn¡¯t surprised. She continued leisurely,


    "If you die young, what happens to the company?"


    "Who will lead Starlight to global prominence?"


    Immediately, Gu Zhao¡¯s demeanor shifted.


    Straightening his collar, he checked his watch and stood. "Chairman Sheng, I¡¯ll take the afternoon off to see a doctor."


    Sheng Quan patted his shoulder approvingly. "Good. Go."


    As Gu Zhao exited, she mentally applauded herself.


    What a conscientious, employee-loving boss she was.


    And admittedly, the small triumph of convincing a workaholic like Gu Zhao to prioritize his health was gratifying.


    Once he recovered, he¡¯d be back to grinding for her anyway.


    In high spirits, she headed out to plan the company cafeteria¡ªonly to push open the door and immediately spot Gu Zhao collecting files.


    She: "......?"


    "Gu Zhao, do you really need to carry so many files to the hospital? Isn¡¯t it exhausting to bring all that with you?"


    Gu Zhao paused mid-motion. "You¡¯re right."


    Three minutes later, Gu Zhao strode into the elevator. As the doors slowly closed, he nodded earnestly at Sheng Quan, who stood seeing him off at the entrance. "Chairman Sheng, thank you."


    Sheng Quan: "...You¡¯re welcome."


    Her gaze drifted behind Gu Zhao.


    There stood... a secretary clutching a towering stack of files.

 Chapter 16

    It was obvious that Gu Zhao was feigning ignorance.


    Sheng Quan didn¡¯t believe for a second that he couldn¡¯t understand what she was saying. If Gu Zhao¡¯s comprehension skills were truly that poor, he would never have become the ruthless figure the industry unanimously recognized him as.


    He simply didn¡¯t want to defy her while still insisting on working¡ªso he¡¯d chosen a "compromise."


    She didn¡¯t know whether to laugh or cry.


    It was almost impressive how Gu Zhao could maintain that "aloof, domineering CEO expression" while pretending to be clueless.


    Some of Gu Zhao¡¯s views might be extreme, but they weren¡¯t entirely without merit¡ªlike his belief that "people are always more forgiving toward those who are powerful."


    Especially when that "powerful person" was still working tirelessly for her despite suffering from stomach issues.


    Watching the elevator doors close behind him, Sheng Quan sent Secretary Zhang a message on Feixin:


    *[Take good care of Gu Zhao. Make sure he gets a full check-up¡ªevery possible test. If he resists, tell him it¡¯s my order. And ask the doctor for detailed advice on how to manage his condition.]*


    *[While you¡¯re at the hospital, grab something to eat and keep the receipt for reimbursement. I¡¯ll inform HR to count today as overtime for you. Thanks for your hard work.]*


    Inside the elevator, Secretary Zhang felt his phone buzz. He awkwardly shifted the stack of files in his arms to fish it out, and his face instantly brightened.


    Overtime pay on a weekday? At this rate, he¡¯d happily carry Gu Zhao himself if it meant sprinting to the hospital!


    He quickly typed back one-handed:


    *[Understood, thank you, Chairwoman Sheng! I¡¯ll take good care of President Gu! *Hard at work.jpg*]*


    *[Ding¡ª]*


    The elevator doors slid open. Gu Zhao strode out first, with Secretary Zhang hurrying after him. After just a few steps, his boss¡¯s cool, authoritative voice cut through the air:


    "What did Chairwoman Sheng say to you?"


    The icy tone sent an involuntary shiver down Secretary Zhang¡¯s spine. He straightened immediately.


    "Chairwoman Sheng instructed me to ensure you undergo a thorough examination¡ªevery available test."


    Gu Zhao glanced at his watch, brow furrowing slightly.


    Though they hadn¡¯t worked together long, Secretary Zhang was already well-acquainted with his superior¡¯s obsession with precision¡ªno, his *excellent habit* of meticulously scheduling every minute.


    That frown? Clearly, Gu Zhao was calculating how much work time he¡¯d lose to medical tests.


    Hesitantly, Secretary Zhang added, "Chairwoman Sheng will likely want to see your results. She¡¯s... concerned about you."


    Gu Zhao paused. "She¡¯s concerned about me?"


    Now it was Secretary Zhang¡¯s turn to freeze. Chairwoman Sheng might as well have written the word *"concern"* on her forehead¡ªwas Gu Zhao seriously playing dumb?


    But having clawed his way past countless competitors for this position, he wasn¡¯t about to blurt out *"Are you blind?"* Instead, he adopted a solemn expression, meeting Gu Zhao¡¯s gaze earnestly:


    "Yes, Chairwoman Sheng is deeply concerned about you. She even emphasized that I consult the doctor on how to best care for your health. It¡¯s only you, President Gu¡ªgiven how busy she is, she wouldn¡¯t go to such lengths for just anyone."


    Not only had he conveyed the chairwoman¡¯s care, but he¡¯d also slipped in some subtle flattery. Secretary Zhang maintained his professional demeanor while mentally patting himself on the back.


    With reflexes and diplomacy like this, he¡¯d be climbing the corporate ladder straight to executive assistant in no time.


    When he noticed Gu Zhao still rooted in place, he ventured, "President Gu?"


    Gu Zhao snapped out of his daze.


    He checked his watch again, silently tallying the time.


    If he really went through with every test, there was no way he¡¯d finish reviewing these documents.


    But... Chairwoman Sheng was concerned about him.


    The expressionless, frosty-faced man stood motionless, locked in an internal struggle for a full three seconds.


    Finally, he turned back, his gaze lingering regretfully on the files in Secretary Zhang¡¯s arms before closing his eyes with a resigned sigh.


    "In that case," he said gravely, "we¡¯ll follow Chairwoman Sheng¡¯s instructions."


    Secretary Zhang: *...Why does it sound like he¡¯s being forced to part with a lover?*


    As Gu Zhao reluctantly abandoned his plan to *"multitask between doctor visits and paperwork,"* Sheng Quan first reviewed the scale of the company cafeteria project before scrolling through updates.


    006 cheerfully reported: *[First beneficiary¡¯s career progress: 16.]*


    It eagerly shared: *[It¡¯s been steadily rising these past few days! Once it hits 20, Host can draw another prize!]*


    Sheng Quan, however, wasn¡¯t as optimistic: *[Without any released works, Yan Hui¡¯s career progress hitting this level is already the limit. Further growth will depend on his debut.]*


    As she¡¯d said before¡ªpeople only *"invest"* affection after they¡¯ve *seen* something. No matter how much hype surrounded *"the handsome pancake vendor,"* without substance, it was all smoke and mirrors.


    Fans weren¡¯t fools. The odds of them falling head over heels from a few photos were slim, especially in an entertainment industry as cutthroat as this one, where Yan Hui¡¯s looks only placed him in the upper-mid tier. In the end, talent spoke louder than aesthetics.


    We need to get his work out soon. His current popularity is purely topic-driven. Without a product to anchor it, it¡¯ll keep fluctuating.


    006, initially thrilled, now panicked slightly: *[Then what will Host do?]*


    Sheng Quan leaned back in her office chair, perfectly at ease: *[I¡¯m no professional in this field¡ªpast this point, I¡¯m out of my depth.]*


    But she wasn¡¯t worried in the slightest: *[Leave it to the experts. I¡¯m the boss¡ªthis isn¡¯t my job to sweat over.]*


    ***


    Yuan Zixin had just finished reviewing the company¡¯s entire handbook¡ªevery regulation, every benefit.


    Even Sheng Quan, the chairwoman herself, had admitted some rules seemed *"excessive."* Yuan Zixin had privately agreed while reading, but like every candidate drawn to Starlight Entertainment, the moment she saw the compensation package, all doubts vanished.


    Full social insurance? Overtime pay? *Company housing?!*


    She was ready to wave the *"I ? Starlight"* banner on the spot.


    After the HR specialist finished outlining onboarding basics¡ªdepartments, her assigned team, protocols¡ªshe guided Yuan Zixin to register her fingerprints and facial recognition.


    Yuan Zixin complied but couldn¡¯t resist asking, "Is this for clocking in and out? I didn¡¯t see any scanners at the entrance."


    The HR rep smiled. "No, this is for our private elevator access."


    Yuan Zixin¡¯s eyes widened. "*We have a private elevator?*"


    No wonder she¡¯d found it odd earlier. In a central business district, skyscraper elevators were usually jam-packed¡ªyet when she¡¯d ridden up with Chairwoman Sheng, they¡¯d shot straight to the 33rd floor without a single stop.


    "Correct. As an entertainment company, Starlight frequently hosts celebrities. Privacy and confidentiality are prioritized more than in conventional firms. Plus, given that Chairwoman Sheng is..."


    She gave Yuan Zixin a meaningful look.


    Yuan Zixin caught on instantly. "Right¡ªshe owns the entire Huaxing Building."


    "Exactly. So our company enjoys certain... *privileges.*" Though she¡¯d only joined recently, the HR specialist¡¯s tone already brimmed with pride.


    Yuan Zixin understood perfectly.


    In a company that offers overtime pay, provides housing, and covers social insurance with housing funds, Yuan Zixin already felt a strong sense of belonging even before officially starting.


    At that moment, all she wanted to say was: *This company is my home now¡ªwherever I go, I¡¯ll work my hardest for it.*


    After registering her fingerprint and facial recognition, she marveled, ¡°So the elevator I just used is our floor¡¯s private elevator?¡±


    ¡°No, that¡¯s not it,¡± the young woman assisting her replied. ¡°That one¡¯s reserved for the executive team and above. Ours is right next to it.¡±


    Glancing around, Yuan Zixin lowered her voice and shared a rumor she¡¯d heard: ¡°Word is, Gu Zhao wanted to build a personal elevator just for Chairwoman Sheng Quan, but she refused. Otherwise, we¡¯d have *three* private elevators in this building.¡±


    A private elevator in a 33-story central business district skyscraper? Yuan Zixin had only seen such a thing in the over-the-top CEO dramas she watched as a kid.


    It sounded excessive¡ªuntil she remembered that Sheng Quan *owned* the Huaxing Building. Then it suddenly made sense.


    *This must be what the world of the ultra-rich is like.*


    ¡°Why did Chairwoman Sheng refuse?¡± she asked.


    ¡°Apparently, it¡¯s because other companies in Huaxing Building also need to use the elevators. Setting aside two doesn¡¯t disrupt things too much, but a third would be unnecessary.¡±


    Yuan Zixin¡¯s mind flashed back to Sheng Quan smiling and holding the door open for her downstairs. She couldn¡¯t help but sigh, ¡°Chairwoman Sheng is *such* a good person.¡±


    It was rare to find someone in such a high position who still considered the needs of ordinary employees.


    Though their interactions had been brief, Yuan Zixin could already tell: Sheng Quan was a woman of principle.


    Her line of work had exposed her to plenty of wealthy people, and that world was a mixed bag. She¡¯d met too many who, once rich, stopped caring about anyone else¡¯s feelings¡ªuntil they encountered someone even more powerful, at which point they¡¯d grovel without shame.


    Sure, there *were* genuinely refined wealthy people, but they were the exception. Most in that circle operated purely on self-interest, with no regard for courtesy.


    That¡¯s why she respected Gu Zhao¡ªbecause whether you were rich or poor, he *equally* looked down on anyone whose IQ didn¡¯t meet his standards.


    The problem was, he was terrible at hiding it. No wonder he had such a terrible reputation.


    By that logic, if Sheng Quan could make someone like Gu Zhao work for her, she had to be even more impressive than she seemed.


    *This company has serious potential.*


    When she saw the small but fully private dormitory assigned to her, Yuan Zixin thought it again: *This company has serious potential.*


    It wasn¡¯t just the free housing winning her over. Her experience ¡°rotating¡± through multiple companies had given her a sharp eye for workplace culture.


    Most employees at other firms slacked off at least a little, but from what she¡¯d observed walking through Xingmang Entertainment¡¯s departments, everyone was diligently focused. The atmosphere was nothing like the tense, suffocating environments she¡¯d seen elsewhere¡ªthe kind that made people joke, *¡°One year of work ages you three.¡±*


    Instead, Xingmang¡ªa brand-new company¡ªbuzzed with positive energy. The HR rep¡¯s enthusiasm said it all: she *genuinely* wanted to stay and climb the ranks here.


    For a startup, the team was remarkably grounded.


    Probably because overtime pay wasn¡¯t just a myth here¡ªit was logged and paid, every single time.


    No one had slipped through the cracks. They¡¯d all been rigorously vetted, and each was confident in their skills, with Xingmang giving them the platform to shine.


    Yuan Zixin¡¯s job required constant social media monitoring, and she¡¯d seen plenty of *¡°Gen Z slacker culture¡±* videos. Yet at Xingmang, where 80% of the staff were young, every single one radiated ambition.


    To exaggerate a little: *Their eyes sparkled with drive.*


    Running a hand over the dorm¡¯s small bed, she thought, *Hell, even* I *feel like shooting laser beams of motivation, and I¡¯m thirty-seven.*


    In a company where *¡°performance equals promotion¡±* and *¡°promotion equals better perks,¡±* who *wouldn¡¯t* be ready to go all out?


    Still lost in thoughts of *¡°How is this place so... normal?¡±*, Yuan Zixin was startled by a call from the executive secretary¡¯s office: *The Chairwoman wants to see you.*


    On her way up, she noticed the staff treating her with even more warmth than before.


    No surprise there. At Xingmang Entertainment, Chairwoman Sheng Quan was the undisputed apex.


    This was another way Xingmang differed from other companies. Normally, a chairwoman might hold a lofty title, but employees rarely revered them¡ªafter all, chairpersons rarely showed up day-to-day. The real authority lay with the CEO.


    But at Xingmang? Gu Zhao might as well have *¡°Sheng Quan is supreme¡±* tattooed on his forehead.


    Even if Sheng Quan brushed it off, he insisted on deference: falling a step behind when walking together, immediately yielding in disagreements if others were present.


    ¡ªZero concern for his own dignity as Chief Officer.


    And when leadership sets the tone, subordinates follow.


    Take the fresh-faced twin boys at reception. Their envy of Yuan Zixin¡ª*summoned by the Chairwoman herself*¡ªwas practically oozing.


    Unconsciously, Yuan Zixin started absorbing the company¡¯s vibe: *You must be exceptional if Sheng Quan personally interviewed you and now wants a private meeting.* Her steps grew more confident.


    The last time she¡¯d felt this self-assured was fresh out of college¡ªbefore reality sanded it down to a thin veneer of bravado.


    By the time she reached the Chairwoman¡¯s office, her nerves finally caught up.


    This wasn¡¯t just *¡°wealthy book fan¡±* Sheng Quan anymore. This was the boss who signed her paychecks.


    Knocking, she entered at the sound of *¡°Come in.¡±*


    Her first thought: *This office is massive.*


    Her second: *That floor-to-ceiling view of the city is breathtaking.*


    *No surprise¡ªowning the whole building means Chairwoman Sheng¡¯s workspace outclasses my last boss¡¯s by miles.*


    Seated behind an expansive desk, Sheng Quan cut straight to the point:


    ¡°Do you think you could elevate Yan Hui to A-list status within two years?¡±


    Yuan Zixin froze mid-sit.


    But she recovered fast. ¡°Yan Hui has outstanding potential in all areas. If you trust me, and the company provides the resources, I believe I can.¡±


    ¡°Good.¡±


    Sheng Quan nodded. ¡°Then Yan Hui is yours.¡±


    Yuan Zixin: *...Wait, that¡¯s it?*


    He didn¡¯t ask her what she thought about Yan Hui¡¯s development, nor did he question where her confidence came from.


    Sheng Quan smiled faintly as she observed Yuan Zixin¡¯s calm demeanor, though her slightly dazed eyes betrayed her true feelings:


    ¡°You might not know this, but I¡¯ve actually learned about you through other channels. I¡¯m aware that your capabilities go far beyond what you¡¯ve shown¡ªonly held back by invisible rules that limit your potential.¡±


    She stood up and extended her hand to Yuan Zixin once more: ¡°I promise you this¡ªno matter how other companies in this industry operate, Xing Mang neither endorses nor tolerates any of those invisible rules.¡±


    Yuan Zixin froze. Neither the overtime pay nor the housing benefits had struck her as deeply as these words from Sheng Quan, which filled her with an overwhelming sense of security.


    Then, she heard the young yet dependable Chairwoman Sheng say:


    ¡°I look forward to the future where you create one rising star after another for Xing Mang.¡±


    Yuan Zixin¡¯s heart raced. The corners of her eyes reddened as, once again, she took Sheng Quan¡¯s hand.


    At that moment, she felt as though the shackles that had long constrained her shattered instantly, revealing a self that had always been there¡ªyet now felt brand new:


    ¡°Thank you. I believe I can live up to your expectations.¡±


    Because this time, someone was standing beside her.

 Chapter 17

    Yuan Zixin proved her professionalism when, after receiving Sheng Quan¡¯s directive to "make Yan Hui famous as quickly as possible," she didn¡¯t question why but flew straight to the film set that same day. Within two days, she had crafted a comprehensive "work plan" tailored specifically for Yan Hui.


    The plan included, but was not limited to, acting classes, posture training, dance lessons, line delivery practice, martial arts instruction, and vocal coaching. When Sheng Quan reviewed the thick, meticulously detailed schedule, just skimming through it made her feel exhausted on Yan Hui¡¯s behalf.


    "Such a packed schedule? Can Yan Hui handle this workload?"


    Yuan Zixin quickly explained, "This plan was finalized after discussing it with Yan Hui. He himself believes he needs intensive training to improve."


    When she first met Yan Hui, the first thing she did was enthusiastically clap him on the shoulder. Back then, she had helped him purely out of guilt¡ªwho could have imagined that ten years later, it would be Yan Hui who recommended her to Director Sheng?


    Both Sheng Quan¡¯s trust and appreciation, as well as Yan Hui¡¯s referral, had filled her with boundless motivation, as if she¡¯d downed ten bowls of adrenaline. Even though she hadn¡¯t spent a single night in the company-provided dorm¡ªconstantly traveling for work¡ªshe was thrilled and utterly confident.


    Now, she was fully embracing the same workaholic spirit as Gu Zhao, who would work through an IV drip if necessary.


    Sheng Quan: "...As long as you¡¯re happy."


    After seeing off her newly work-obsessed subordinate, Sheng Quan¡¯s mind drifted to Gu Zhao¡¯s "no illness can stop me from working" attitude, prompting her to call Yu Xiangwan.


    "Didn¡¯t Director Wan mention he wasn¡¯t feeling well before? I told him to get checked out¡ªdid he go? How¡¯s his health now?"


    She hadn¡¯t forgotten that in *Starlight*, Wan Bao likely never got to enjoy the drama¡¯s success because he had already passed away from illness. She had warned him during her visit to the set, but he didn¡¯t seem to take it seriously.


    Which made sense¡ªcareer-driven minds naturally prioritized work above all else. Like Gu Zhao. Like Wan Bao. Like her in her past life.


    The difference was, back then, she had no choice. As a diligent employee, her time wasn¡¯t her own. But Gu Zhao and Wan Bao? They were simply addicted to their work, blind to everything else.


    So instead of calling Wan Bao directly, she called Yu Xiangwan.


    If she told Wan Bao, "Go get a checkup," he¡¯d agree but then forget the moment he got busy. But if she told Yu Xiangwan, "Make sure Director Wan gets checked," even if the sky fell, Yu Xiangwan would make it happen.


    Sure enough, Yu Xiangwan replied, "His condition isn¡¯t great, but he¡¯s been putting it off because of an important shoot. If you want him examined, I¡¯ll take him for a full checkup today."


    Sheng Quan authorized it: "Take him. I don¡¯t want the director collapsing before the drama¡¯s finished."


    Yu Xiangwan agreed immediately. After hanging up, he summoned the assistant director and two martial arts coordinators.


    Wan Bao was hunched over the monitor, unshaven, with dark circles under his eyes, a sickly pallor, and the general appearance of a freshly turned zombie. When Yu Xiangwan said his "condition wasn¡¯t great," it was an understatement.


    Even when Sheng Quan was on set, Wan Bao frequently pulled all-nighters, filming late into the night before jumping straight into daytime shoots.


    While the cast and crew also endured long hours, most could rotate breaks. Wan Bao, however, sacrificed his own sleep to oversee every single scene.


    Quality didn¡¯t come from lax standards¡ªit came from relentless pressure and high expectations.


    Yu Xiangwan wasn¡¯t one to waste time. He approached and called, "Director Wan."


    The moment Wan Bao turned to answer, the two martial arts coordinators stepped forward, hoisted him out of his chair, and¡ª


    ¡ªthe assistant director, who had just moments ago been handing him hot water and urging him to hydrate, slid smoothly into his seat.


    Wan Bao¡¯s sleep-deprived, overstimulated brain short-circuited.


    What the¡ª? A coup d''e?tat?!


    "What are you doing?? Stop messing around, we¡¯re working!"


    "You might have to pause the work for now," Yu Xiangwan said bluntly. "Director Sheng is deeply concerned about your health and has instructed me to take you for a full medical examination."


    Without waiting for a response, he nodded to the martial arts coordinators. "Let¡¯s go."


    Wan Bao, bewildered, was turned around and marched off. "Wait, no¡ªnot now! I need to oversee this scene! Yu Xiangwan, are you listening? I said I¡¯m not going! I¡¯m fine, I just haven¡¯t slept well the past couple days¡ª"


    Yu Xiangwan ignored his protests, signaling the coordinators to bundle him into the car before taking the driver¡¯s seat.


    ¡ªZoom!


    The black SUV sped off.


    The crew watched it disappear, many breathing sighs of relief.


    Sure, forcibly hauling the director off for a checkup sounded extreme, but Wan Bao¡¯s condition had been worrying everyone. If the production had still been strapped for cash, his round-the-clock work ethic would¡¯ve made sense¡ªevery day on set burned funds.


    But now, with Sheng Quan¡¯s investment, there was no need for such urgency. Why push himself to the brink?


    The logic was obvious, but on a set, the director¡¯s authority was absolute. Only Yu Xiangwan, with Sheng Quan¡¯s backing, could pull this off.


    Lin Aike, who had just arrived with her script, witnessed the scene and exhaled in relief.


    Her tip-off to Sheng Quan hadn¡¯t been in vain. She¡¯d seen too many cases in the industry¡ªpeople like Wan Bao, burning the candle at both ends, eating irregularly, and drowning in stress. Minor illnesses festered into major ones; major ones turned terminal.


    She could only hope Director Wan¡¯s condition wasn¡¯t serious.


    ***


    Director Wan was furious! Director Wan was agitated! Director Wan wanted to teleport back to the set!


    A man obsessed with his craft, suddenly ripped away from it, was on the verge of cursing up a storm¡ªif only he dared.


    But when the test results came in, his anger and frustration dissolved into stunned confusion.


    "Malignant tumor..."


    He looked up, dazed. "Isn¡¯t that... cancer? I have cancer?!"


    The martial arts coordinators hadn¡¯t expected this outcome either. When ordered to escort Wan Bao for a checkup, they¡¯d agreed partly out of concern for his health¡ªbut also because Yu Xiangwan controlled the budget. With his approval, they¡¯d had no qualms about manhandling the director.


    To put it bluntly, without Sheng Quan¡¯s intervention, no one on set would¡¯ve forced Wan Bao to get examined.


    And Yu Xiangwan? He didn¡¯t care about anyone¡ªexcept Sheng Quan.


    After Sheng Quan expressed concern for Director Wan''s health, he spared a fraction of his attention to assess the director''s condition¡ªthough it would be an exaggeration to say he genuinely cared from the heart.


    At this moment, among the four people present, Yu Xiangwan was the most level-headed.


    "There''s no need to worry too much. It''s still in the early stages. Didn¡¯t the doctor just say so? The tumor is still small, and its location won¡¯t complicate surgery. The chances of a full recovery after removal are very high."


    Wan Bao finally snapped back to reality: "Right, right, just a surgery will fix it..."


    The doctor¡¯s words echoed in his mind, but out of everything, he only retained one phrase: "Thankfully, it was caught early."


    "Thank goodness¡ªthank goodness you dragged me here for the check-up. If it had gotten to the late stages..."


    As everyone knows, tumors are highly treatable in their early stages, but the odds worsen over time. By the late stages, treatment becomes nearly impossible.


    The two martial arts instructors also felt as though they¡¯d stepped into a surreal day¡ªhow had they gone from "defying the director" to "saving the director¡¯s life"?


    Meanwhile, Yu Xiangwan seized the opportunity to boost Sheng Quan¡¯s reputation: "This was all at Chairman Sheng¡¯s instruction. She was deeply concerned about your health. Of course, as an investor, she wants to see an outstanding production, but more than that, she prioritizes your well-being. You know how much Chairman Sheng values talent."


    "She knew this would upset you, but she was so worried about your condition. When she called me, she made it clear¡ªyour health matters more than any delay in filming."


    Of course, Sheng Quan had never said any such thing.


    But that didn¡¯t stop Yu Xiangwan from delivering the words with perfect sincerity to Director Wan.


    Originally, he had planned to take the blame if Wan Bao turned out fine, claiming that Sheng Quan had merely expressed concern while he had acted on his own to force the director to the hospital.


    But now that Wan Bao had been diagnosed with a malignant tumor, all credit naturally went to Sheng Quan.


    After Yu Xiangwan¡¯s carefully crafted speech, Wan Bao was moved to tears.


    And why wouldn¡¯t he be? This was cancer, after all.


    One could say Sheng Quan had saved his life.


    As the investor, all she needed was for the production to run smoothly and yield results. Even if he dropped dead on the spot, Sheng Quan¡ªwith her wealth and the current filming progress¡ªcould easily replace him with a new director.


    And yet, he had been angry earlier. What a disgrace he was.


    Seeing that the effect had been achieved, Yu Xiangwan tactfully wrapped things up, picking up his phone: "Now that the results are in, I¡¯ll report back to Chairman Sheng. She¡¯s probably still waiting, and I wouldn¡¯t want to keep her anxious."


    This final touch was the masterstroke.


    Wan Bao¡¯s emotions¡ªfear, confusion, gratitude, relief¡ªall surged at once. He hastily stood up, rubbing his hands sheepishly: "I¡ªI¡¯d like to speak with Miss Sheng too. I need to thank her properly. If it weren¡¯t for her, I might have really..."


    Meanwhile, Sheng Quan was leisurely soaking in a bubble bath, binge-watching dramas with a face mask on, when Yu Xiangwan¡¯s call came through.


    "Malignant tumor? Early stage? That¡¯s good. If the doctor says surgery can remove it, then reassure Director Wan and make sure he focuses on treatment."


    No sooner had she spoken than Yu Xiangwan presumably handed the phone to Wan Bao, who responded in a voice thick with emotion, bordering on tears:


    "Miss Sheng, thank you. You saved my life. I never imagined you cared so much about me. From now on, you¡¯re my goddess. I swear I¡¯ll follow you forever, stay by your side¡ª"


    Sheng Quan: "?"


    Wan Bao¡¯s voice abruptly cut off, replaced by Yu Xiangwan¡¯s smooth, magnetic tone:


    "Pay him no mind. Director Wan only slept two hours last night, and today¡¯s shock has left him a bit disoriented."


    Sheng Quan instantly understood: "Artists, right? How¡¯s the production going? Any estimate on when filming will wrap?"


    "About three more months. Don¡¯t worry¡ªeven with Director Wan¡¯s condition, the crew will keep running smoothly."


    Supervisor Yu was as dependable as ever.


    Sheng Quan felt reassured: "Good, I¡¯ll leave it to you. Once filming ends, come back to the company. You¡¯re our first employee, after all, and it¡¯s been so long since you¡¯ve visited."


    "Understood. I¡¯ll return as soon as we wrap."


    Yu Xiangwan agreed warmly, exchanged a few more pleasantries, and hung up.


    Two months...


    His expression softened as he recalled Sheng Quan¡¯s praise, but when his gaze shifted to the disheveled, sleep-deprived Wan Bao staring at him expectantly, it cooled again:


    "Director Wan, don¡¯t worry about the production. I¡¯ve checked¡ªyou¡¯ll be able to resume work a month after surgery. It won¡¯t delay filming much."


    Wan Bao: ...Actually, I was going to ask if Miss Sheng was worried about me.


    Unaware of the director¡¯s thoughts, Sheng Quan was relieved to hear that Wan Bao¡¯s malignant tumor was caught early, with a high chance of recovery.


    Then she went back to her drama marathon.


    Time ticked away until 11:57 PM.


    Sheng Quan checked the clock and turned off the TV.


    She rarely stayed up late¡ªnow that she was a wealthy chairwoman, health and maintenance were priorities. Her routine was strictly lights out by 10 PM, up at 7 AM, all to preserve her luscious locks.


    But tonight was different.


    It was the last day of the month.


    The system¡¯s settlement was due at midnight.


    For such an important moment, she had to set the mood.


    Wrapped in her bathrobe, Sheng Quan grabbed a wine glass, stepped onto the balcony, and gazed at the glittering cityscape. She raised the glass¡ª


    ¡ªthen poured herself some ice-cold cola.


    She even fished out two ice cubes from the fridge, dropped them in, and stuck in a straw.


    Full ceremonial vibes.


    [Ding! Monthly settlement begins now.]


    006 solemnly announced her achievements:


    [First beneficiary¡¯s career progress: 16.2%]


    [First beneficiary¡¯s favorability toward host: over 80%]


    [Settlement in progress: Host¡¯s lifespan extended by 92 days. Monetary return: 4.21 million.]


    Sheng Quan had already guessed most of this. Her real focus was: [What about my earlier request?]


    [Per host¡¯s application, after system review: Host¡¯s ownership of a small company is deemed conducive to better supporting beneficiaries. Due to the successful completion of the first task, the system approves the use of rental income for company operations¡ªstrictly limited to internal expenses, no external purchases permitted.]


    Just as she¡¯d expected.


    Sheng Quan had long suspected the rules had flexibility. For instance, when she¡¯d first tested the waters by using "meeting Yan Hui" as an excuse to splurge, as long as 006 approved, it was fine.


    Using system funds to start a company and hire Yu Xiangwan had also gone smoothly¡ªafter all, both the company and its employees contributed to the beneficiaries¡¯ futures.


    This time, her company rolled out generous employee benefits, motivating the staff to work even harder. For the sponsored individuals under their wing, having the backing of a corporation was a significant advantage for their future development.


    The constructed **[Wish Force]** of System 006 lacked concrete thought. Sheng Quan even suspected that the **[Wish Force]** had become synonymous with 006 itself. Aside from its rigid rules, any borderline use of the system¡¯s funds would be approved as long as it benefited the sponsored individuals and 006 gave its nod.


    She aggressively recruited employees and enhanced welfare packages, essentially gambling on whether the system would deem her actions effective for advancing sponsorship work¡ªand thus approve her request.


    And she won the bet.


    Just as she had every single time in her past life.


    Sheng Quan took a sip of ice-cold cola as a little reward for herself: *"Thank you, 006."*


    The ever-serious 006 responded in its usual formal tone: *"You''re welcome! Host has indeed performed excellently~"*


    It continued its announcement: *"Second month¡¯s sponsorship fund: One billion."*


    Sheng Quan paused, her wine glass halfway to her lips: *"That much?"*


    006 patiently explained: *"Because the host requested ¡®lots of money,¡¯ I applied for it. However, there are restrictions¡ªthis one billion is limited to online spending only and cannot be used in the real world. In other words, the host can only spend it on the internet, but the cashback will be real-world cashback~"*


    Sheng Quan slowly took another sip of her ice-cold cola.


    In an instant, countless titles of those over-the-top "tycoon" web novels she¡¯d read before flashed through her mind.


    *"Being the Big Spender in Livestreams," "The Tycoon System: Smashing a Billion," "Starting with a Billion: Streamers Kneel and Call Me Daddy,"* and so on.


    She rubbed her temples, forcing those bizarre titles out of her thoughts.


    One billion.


    How on earth was she supposed to spend it all?

 Chapter 18

    Though holding a massive sum of money, Sheng Quan ultimately chose one thing first: sleep.


    No matter how big the world was, her routine came first. Staying up past midnight just to wait for a financial settlement was already pushing her limits.


    The next morning, after breakfast, Sheng Quan lounged in her luxurious bed, scrolling through various online platforms.


    The buzz around her identity as the ¡¾Rich Book Fan¡¿ hadn¡¯t died down¡ªif anything, it had only grown. Since she still hadn¡¯t clarified whether ¡¾Huaxing Building¡¿ actually belonged to her, people continued to speculate and debate endlessly.


    As the saying goes, official statements could never compare to the thrill of uncovering the truth firsthand.


    But now that most of the details had already been dug up, it was time for her to make an appearance.


    In the group chat for "The Path of Life," although Sheng Quan hadn''t spoken since the first wave of trending topics, what was once just a lively group had exploded into chaos.


    Countless onlookers had flooded in, sending so many join requests that the group owner¡¯s phone froze from the notifications. In the end, they had to set the group to ¡¾No New Members Allowed¡¿ just to restore some peace.


    Honestly, the group owner had remarkable integrity¡ªotherwise, they could¡¯ve easily set up a ¡¾Paid Entry¡¿ system and made a small fortune.


    Online, some people were even offering high bounties for the group¡¯s QQ number, just to get closer to the drama. Whether anyone succeeded in buying their way in remained a mystery.


    However, since the account ¡¾Victory in Hand¡¿ had been offline ever since, some speculated that the rich fan had abandoned it to avoid attention. As days passed, the initial excitement in the book fan group gradually faded, and conversations returned to their usual mix of randomness.


    When Sheng Quan finally checked in, she saw the girls jumping between topics within minutes¡ªfrom admiring the nice weather outside to discussing travel destinations, from begging for likes on a classmate¡¯s post (No. 77) to gushing about cute guys and little girls they¡¯d seen, and sharing random pictures with ¡°Isn¡¯t this pretty?¡±


    Her attention snagged on the plea for likes, which came with a link. Clicking it, Sheng Quan was met with a poorly designed webpage, bizarre visual choices, and rows of photos that looked like mugshots¡ªeach person sporting questionable styling choices.


    Was that supposed to be smoky eye makeup? It looked more like someone had smeared dirt over their eyelids.


    And why was that clearly young girl given a mature makeup look?


    Scrolling down to contestant No. 79, Sheng Quan paused at the photo of a guy with a bowl cut, his face caked in dark powder and an eyepatch that practically screamed ¡°pirate cosplay.¡± Her gaze lingered on the name beside it: **Jin Jiu**.


    Even after so long, just seeing that name sent a jolt through her¡ªthe kind that made her want to curse the original novel¡¯s author.


    Now she remembered why this singing competition sounded familiar. It was one of the countless shabby programs Jin Jiu had been forced into.


    Jin Jiu¡ªthe quintessential underdog from ¡¶Starlight¡·.


    A natural-born singer, Jin Jiu had been blessed with looks, talent, and a voice so stunning it was once described as ¡°kissed by an angel.¡± At sixteen, he was poised to ride the wave of the industry¡¯s golden era¡ªuntil envy drove someone to poison him, destroying his voice beyond repair.


    Though the perpetrator was swiftly caught, the truth was buried by powerful backers, and Jin Jiu¡¯s angelic voice was lost forever.


    Sheng Quan remembered how absurd that plot point had seemed¡ªuntil a quick search revealed real-life cases just as cruel. It was a harsh lesson in the dark side of the entertainment world.


    And Jin Jiu learned it even harder.


    At his peak, everyone adored him. His boss treated him like a son, his agent acted like a protective older brother, and fans showered him with love.


    But the moment his voice was gone, the ¡°boy genius¡± became just another disposable face.


    His boss turned on him, trapping him with sky-high contract penalties and forcing him to perform while still recovering. The once-kind agent became a tyrant, squeezing every last cent from Jin Jiu through endless concerts and fan meets.


    Even his fans abandoned him. Each performance¡ªeach ticket sold under false pretenses¡ªturned their love into disgust. The narrative was set: Jin Jiu was a scammer, leeching money from his supporters. Never mind that he never saw a dime of it. Never mind that he wasn¡¯t even sixteen yet.


    On the day of his birthday, a bouquet of flowers appeared on his desk. Exhausted but touched, he hugged it close¡ªuntil he read the card:


    *¡°I regret ever loving you.¡±*


    In that moment, his heart froze over.


    Jin Jiu tried to end his life that night. His parents stopped him, their tears searing into him. And in their grief, he realized: If he wasn¡¯t afraid of death, what else was there to fear?


    The next day, he walked into his boss¡¯s office with a paper cutter. Smiling, he dragged the blade across his own skin, again and again, blood pooling at his feet.


    Terrified, the boss let him go without a fight¡ªeven tossing him 3,000 yuan as ¡°compensation¡± to get rid of him.


    Jin Jiu was free. But the boy who had once shone like the sun now carried chains of trauma that would weigh on him for decades.


    In the novel, he vanished for thirty years.


    Thirty years of grinding to heal his voice. When perfect pitch proved impossible, he reinvented himself¡ªstudying techniques, adapting his style, masking every flaw with sheer skill.


    The bright-eyed prodigy became a shadow, his face etched with quiet sorrow. Even side-by-side with old photos, few would recognize him.


    During her re-reads, Sheng Quan¡¯s favorite arc was always Jin Jiu¡¯s comeback. On days when work drained her, she¡¯d revisit that chapter like a shot of adrenaline.


    He took jobs as a janitor at music schools just to eavesdrop on lessons. He devoured every interview, every performance, practicing relentlessly.


    The book summarized it in a few lines. But behind those words were thirty years of unyielding grit.


    Sheng Quan¡¯s favorite part of the novel was when the protagonist succeeded in compensating for his lost talent through sheer diligence. Whenever she was exhausted from overtime work or overwhelmed by professional frustrations, she would revisit that segment repeatedly, as if drawing strength from it.


    It¡¯s no exaggeration to say that for a time, the character Jin Jiu was the emotional anchor that helped Sheng Quan endure her grueling workload. His influence even played a role in shaping her gradually maturing personality.


    He taught her that survival alone wasn¡¯t enough¡ªone had to truly live. He made her understand that not every endeavor in life yields results, but the process must always align with one¡¯s conscience.


    Yet, tragically, even as Sheng Quan grew stronger and wiser under Jin Jiu¡¯s influence, Jin Jiu himself harbored a fatal flaw.


    Being abandoned overnight by everyone who once adored him left deep psychological scars. Though his singing offstage was flawless, the moment he faced an audience, he couldn¡¯t suppress the memory of those words on the card:


    *¡ªI regret ever liking you.*


    Like a curse, the sentence haunted Jin Jiu¡¯s mind relentlessly.


    To overcome it, he signed up for every singing competition he could find, no matter how obscure or poorly produced. He forced himself to perform, again and again.


    Then, at the age of 46, the singer who had framed him decades earlier was exposed for unrelated crimes, and the truth about Jin Jiu¡¯s past finally came to light. When former listeners returned, proclaiming their love and admiration, Jin Jiu realized he felt no joy.


    He didn¡¯t blame his fans. He just felt... tired.


    Thirty years of his youth had slipped away in relentless struggle. In those three decades, he had aged, his parents had passed, his former manager was gone¡ªeverything seemed like a relic of the past.


    Now, Jin Jiu could finally return to the stage.


    When his voice¡ªrefined by decades of technique, no longer the raw instrument of his youth¡ªresounded once more, his resurgence was meteoric.


    Overnight, the world remembered his name.


    After thirty years of obscurity, Jin Jiu became a sensation again. He regained adoring fans, newfound acclaim, and awards that cemented his status as a true legend of music. It seemed as though everyone loved him once more, fervently and unshakably.


    Then, on an utterly ordinary day, Jin Jiu took his own life by slitting his wrists, leaving behind a brief note:


    *¡ªI¡¯m sorry you ever loved me.*


    This ending wasn¡¯t a narrative cop-out. During *Starlight*¡¯s serialization, readers were furious, but Sheng Quan didn¡¯t join the online mob cursing the author.


    First, the ending had wounded her too deeply. Second, as painful as it was, she couldn¡¯t deny its cruel logic.


    Many readers shared her perspective. Though heartbroken, they acknowledged that for Jin Jiu, death was release. Thirty sleepless nights were condensed into a single line in the novel, but for him, they amounted to three decades of exhaustion and agony.


    From the beginning, the author had made it clear: Jin Jiu craved love.


    His upbringing, marked by long absences from his parents, left him emotionally starved. The passionate, unconditional love of his fans filled that void¡ªand in return, he gave them tenfold devotion.


    When that love was abruptly rescinded, he was lost.


    Gained overnight, lost overnight.


    So when it returned, he couldn¡¯t rejoice. He only feared its inevitable loss again.


    As the book conveyed, he was too weary. He had waited too long.


    And so, he chose to preserve the love he had¡ªby ending his life.


    Sheng Quan understood. But understanding didn¡¯t ease the ache.


    While reading about Jin Jiu¡¯s abandonment, she had been tempted to flood the comment section daily with declarations of her unwavering support.


    But now he was gone. She couldn¡¯t even leave a comforting comment.


    Her despondency grew so palpable that her notoriously stingy boss hesitantly asked if she¡¯d been dumped¡ªoffering an unpaid day off to ¡°recover.¡±


    She refused, channeling her grief into a furious work spree. Whether it was her visibly seething aura or fear she might quit, her boss relented by evening, granting a *paid* day off.


    The once-beloved passages of Jin Jiu¡¯s perseverance became unbearable to revisit. Only by forcibly burying the memories did Sheng Quan emerge from that ¡°soul-crushing¡± state.


    Eventually, she quit her job to pursue her own ambitions. She kept reading *Starlight*, but never revisited the earlier arcs. Each time the pain resurfaced, she reminded herself: *It was Jin Jiu¡¯s choice. Let it go.*


    Still, she couldn¡¯t help grumbling: *That hack author really had a track record for tragic endings.*


    *If only I¡¯d held on a little longer to curse them twice before...*


    Now, Sheng Quan tapped her phone screen, studying the image of Jin Jiu¡ªdressed absurdly as a pirate captain¡ªand the caption noting his age: 23. Slowly, she smiled.


    This wasn¡¯t the timeline from the book. He was alive.


    This was Jin Jiu, untouched by thirty years of silent suffering.


    Vibrant. Real.


    And currently wearing a pirate costume.


    **[006, bind the second beneficiary: Jin Jiu.]**

 Chapter 19

    ¡¾Bound to Jin Jiu.¡¿


    Sheng Quan double-checked Jin Jiu''s contestant number.


    It was indeed 79.


    The number ¡¾79¡¿ stood out to Sheng Quan because of a scene in the novel where Jin Jiu, after mastering a raspier but pleasant singing style, overcame his stage fright by participating in every singing competition he could find.


    As mentioned before, the entertainment industry in "Starlight" was fiercely competitive. Someone like Yan Hui, whose looks would easily rank in the top five in Sheng Quan¡¯s previous life, was considered merely above average here.


    Not only were the performers under immense pressure, but production companies, directors, and behind-the-scenes teams were all pushing the limits. In such an environment, talent shows proliferated¡ªbig and small, covering everything from "Best Looks" to "Best Voice," "Most Stunning Dance," "Greatest Acting," and even "Top Martial Arts Performers."


    After seven years of vocal training, Jin Jiu, at 23, signed up for a small singing contest hosted by a nearly defunct TV station. Unlike typical voting schemes where fans paid to support their favorites, this show promised that every vote would be donated to charity.


    The charity in question was legitimate¡ªfully transparent from its inception, ensuring every cent went where it was supposed to. This clever twist brought the obscure program some much-needed attention, proving that low budgets could still yield decent results.


    Did Jin Jiu finally break free from his shadows and shine?


    Of course not.


    When his turn came, he froze on stage, failing to sing a single word before being swiftly eliminated. Yet, the novel noted that he wasn¡¯t disheartened. Instead, after leaving the stage, he cast 790 votes for another contestant he admired.


    At one yuan per vote, 790 yuan was nearly a month¡¯s living expenses for Jin Jiu. After casting them, he quietly told himself: *This trip wasn¡¯t a waste. That money is better spent on someone else.*


    This moment was a big reason why Sheng Quan¡¯s fondness for Jin Jiu evolved from "casual appreciation of a fictional character" to "deeply cherished."


    After Jin Jiu¡¯s tragic suicide, Sheng Quan couldn¡¯t bear to reread earlier chapters, but other readers dissected his emotional journey in online groups. She once glimpsed a discussion suggesting that the decade following his vocal injury was marked by deep-seated insecurity¡ªhad someone reached out then, he might have overcome his mental barriers.


    The middle decade was a slow erosion of hope, though he still clung to a sliver of it.


    The final decade? Decades of exhaustion, deteriorating health, and the numbness of depression left Jin Jiu broken. By then, his parents¡¯ deaths had shattered him, and performing became his last obsession.


    And when that obsession was finally fulfilled, love¡ªsudden and overwhelming, just like in his youth¡ªcame flooding in.


    How could he not be terrified?


    Now, though Jin Jiu¡¯s voice could never fully recover and his scars remained, he was still in the most hopeful third of those thirty years.


    The situation was somewhat like early-stage Wan Bao¡¯s cancer.


    Fatal, yes¡ªbut caught early enough to still be treatable.


    Sheng Quan searched for news about Jin Jiu and, unsurprisingly, found only negativity: "terrible singer," "fraud of the music industry."


    Further back, the headlines were all praise: *"A voice kissed by angels," "a healing tone brimming with emotion."*


    Such was the entertainment industry¡ªworshipping stars one day and tearing them down the next.


    Virtually no recordings survived of Jin Jiu¡¯s pre-injury voice. He¡¯d never even released an album¡ªjust scattered videos and audio clips. Whether due to his former company¡¯s interference or the passage of time, Sheng Quan could only find one or two fragments after extensive searching.


    Curious about the voice that had once inspired such devotion, she listened¡ªand realized the hype was real.


    Even through distorted audio and grainy footage, the sheer beauty of his singing stunned her.


    Sixteen-year-old Jin Jiu overflowed with raw talent, wielding his gifted voice with effortless grace. The emotions woven into every note were palpable, pulling listeners into the world of each song.


    If a flawed recording sounded *this* good, how breathtaking must it have been live?


    And yet, the novel¡¯s Jin Jiu had, through thirty years of relentless effort, rebuilt a "divine voice" from the ruins of his damaged one. Had he not taken his own life, international acclaim would have been within reach.


    *So close,* Sheng Quan lamented¡ªthen abruptly remembered she¡¯d transmigrated into this world. Her sigh dissolved into a grin as she eyed the system¡¯s funds: *100 million yuan.*


    Time for a plan.


    ****


    The *Road of Life* book fan group buzzed as usual¡ªuntil a new message popped up:


    ¡¾Liked. When does this show air?¡¿


    Most were confused, but a few recognized the username instantly: *Victory Is Assured!*


    The legendary wealthy fan! The one who¡¯d funded the series with a million!


    After confirming it wasn¡¯t an imposter, the group exploded.


    ¡¾AHHHHH YOU¡¯RE BACK!!!¡¿


    ¡¾Rich sis, need a human accessory? I¡¯m house-trained and college-educated.¡¿


    ¡¾*frantic rubbing* OMG OMG OMG!!¡¿


    ¡¾I RACED HERE ON MY MOTORCYCLE TO GAPE AT YOU! IT¡¯S REALLY HER!!¡¿


    ¡¾T_T You actually returned... I thought you¡¯d abandoned this account!¡¿


    Amid the chaos, dozens scrambled to message friends:


    ¡¾Sheng Quan¡¯s online!! She¡¯s back!!¡¿


    ¡¾Girl, I¡¯m witnessing HISTORY right now!¡¿


    ¡¾She never left the group? Wow, sharing a chat with her feels surreal. Call me the Gossip Queen from now on.¡¿


    Meanwhile, the original poster, the girl who¡¯d been replied to, was starstruck. Flustered, she typed back:


    ¡¾I think it airs tomorrow? Today¡¯s just pre-voting. Honestly, I¡¯m just helping a classmate promote it¡ªshe joined for fun.¡¿


    Her friend had only signed up for the novelty of being on TV (even a tiny station counted). The girl had offered to rally votes as a joke...


    ...and somehow attracted *the* Sheng Quan, the woman whose "spend a million to fund a novel adaptation" stunt had spawned countless viral videos like *"How the Ultra-Rich Fandom"* and *"The Bonkers Reason a Tycoon Bought a Skyscraper."*


    Sheng Quan had not officially debuted, but her Weibo account, which had never posted anything since its creation, already boasted a follower count surpassing many second-tier celebrities.


    Moreover, numerous video bloggers and influencers had practically turned into human microscopes, digging up a long list of actors, directors, screenwriters, and even small entertainment company CEOs who followed Sheng Quan. While the names weren¡¯t exactly earth-shattering, the sheer volume was enough to make an impression.


    Industry insiders knew better¡ªthe list contained no major studios, A-list stars, renowned directors, or heavyweight screenwriters. After all, those who had no professional ties to Sheng Quan wouldn¡¯t bother following her. The names that did appear were mostly third-tier or lower, and even those with some work under their belts were largely one-hit wonders.


    But marketing accounts didn¡¯t care about such nuances.


    They thrived on hype, and rather than bluntly stating that "those following Sheng Quan are mostly small-time figures and cash-strapped companies," they preferred to cherry-pick the few semi-notable names from the list and exaggerate their significance.


    For example: a third-tier actor who appeared in three shots of a moderately successful drama was hailed as a "breakout star of a hit series"; a director whose big-budget film barely turned a profit was praised for "box office earnings surpassing 100 million"; a tiny company was glorified as a "veteran entertainment firm with over a decade in the industry."


    After hyping up these individuals, the narrative inevitably shifted to: "If even these people are following Sheng Quan, just imagine the staggering capital backing her," and so on.


    One influencer¡¯s exaggeration fed into another¡¯s, until Sheng Quan¡¯s image as an ultra-wealthy tycoon became so firmly cemented that no one questioned it.


    Even though she had only appeared briefly, never followed anyone back, and never posted on Weibo, people still eagerly followed her updates, treating it like a front-row seat to observe a real-life billionaire.


    But when she suddenly made an appearance, the first reaction was still: "Wait, is this for real?!"


    Sheng Quan ignored the flood of messages (there were simply too many to reply to) and instead searched the group chat for the girl who had originally messaged her, responding:


    **[This looks interesting! I gave your friend a like!]**


    **[Where do you buy tickets, by the way? I searched but couldn¡¯t find any sales page.]**


    Before the girl could reply, other enthusiastic group members jumped in:


    **[Small-scale productions like this don¡¯t even sell tickets¡ªmost of the audience is just friends and family of the contestants.]**


    **[Yeah, I¡¯ve been a ¡®family audience¡¯ before. Sometimes, if they don¡¯t have enough people, the production team even hires extras to fill seats.]**


    **[Isn¡¯t this from Strawberry TV?]**


    **[Holy crap, I only noticed after the rich lady mentioned it¡ªthis talent show is insane! The live broadcast is at 1 AM. Who schedules a show at that hour?!]**


    **[No money, that¡¯s who. Just look at their formatting. Airing on Strawberry TV, already the least popular network, plus this godawful time slot? They¡¯re doomed.]**


    Sheng Quan typed again:


    **[Oh, 1 AM? That¡¯s a shame. I need my beauty sleep.]**


    **[I was thinking of checking it out in person, but never mind¡ªskin care comes first.]**


    After casually chatting with the group for a while, she left and immediately called her marketing team.


    **"There are already screenshots circulating. Just amplify this a little¡ªnot too much, though. We¡¯ve got more moves planned later."**


    Once the marketing team got to work, she dialed Mr. Wang and asked if he had any connections at Strawberry TV.


    Mr. Wang had been in the industry for years. Forget Strawberry TV¡ªhe had contacts in even the top-tier networks (though whether those contacts held any real influence was another matter).


    Naturally, he asked Sheng Quan what this was about.


    She replied nonchalantly, **"Nothing major. There¡¯s a show I¡¯m interested in, and I was hoping you could help me get a ticket."**


    Getting a ticket was such a trivial matter¡ªwhy involve someone of his caliber?


    But if Sheng Quan wanted him to be the middleman, he¡¯d be insane to refuse. He immediately assured her, **"Leave it to me, no problem at all,"** and promptly called his contact at Strawberry TV.


    This contact happened to be a deputy station director, who readily agreed to the ticket request but couldn¡¯t help asking, **"This show¡¯s production team is a disaster¡ªeven our own network barely pays attention to it. Who¡¯s this for?"**


    Even if he hadn¡¯t asked, Mr. Wang would¡¯ve volunteered the information. Sheng Quan could¡¯ve easily gotten a ticket through anyone else¡ªthe fact that she¡¯d approached him meant she wanted her name dropped.


    The moment he mentioned **"Sheng Quan,"** the deputy director¡¯s expression shifted. **"You mean the one making waves lately?"**


    Big networks might not care much about Sheng Quan¡ªher wealth didn¡¯t affect them¡ªbut for struggling small stations like Strawberry TV, it was a different story.


    Mr. Wang proceeded to sing her praises (while also subtly emphasizing his own close ties to her, mentioning how she¡¯d even sold him an entire floor at a steep discount).


    Finally, he wrapped up: **"She¡¯s still young, after all¡ªprobably just enjoys these youth-oriented shows. Since she asked me personally, do me a favor and give her the best seat in the house."**


    The deputy director was more than happy to oblige.


    After hanging up, he mulled it over and decided this was too big an opportunity to waste. Pulling out his phone, he searched for the obscure talent show¡¯s name alongside Sheng Quan¡¯s¡ªand sure enough, discussions were already popping up.


    He sat silently, staring at the screenshots, lost in thought.


    A few minutes later, he switched to his contacts and made another call: **"Station chief, it¡¯s me..."**


    That same night, the hashtag **#ShengQuanSaysTooLateSoSingingWithYouMovesUpFiveHours** trended.


    Accompanying it was an official post from Strawberry TV, where a staff member cheekily added:


    **[If 8 PM is still too late for Sheng Quan, we can adjust it even earlier.]**


    Watching the hashtag climb, Sheng Quan remarked to Gu Zhao (now freed from IV drips and able to work with both hands), **"Strawberry TV knows how to seize an opportunity."**


    Gu Zhao wasn¡¯t surprised. **"If they don¡¯t fight now, they¡¯ll collapse for sure."**


    Sheng Quan: **"I expected them to play along, but not this enthusiastically. They¡¯re willing to make themselves the supporting act just to prop me up. Sharp operators, aren¡¯t they?"**


    **"If they¡¯re going to cooperate, they might as well go all in. At this point, if you said you fancied someone at the network, they¡¯d probably wrap that person in a gift box with a bow and deliver them to your doorstep."**


    Gu Zhao¡¯s tone remained as calm and robotic as ever, even as he said something utterly outrageous:


    **"Naturally, if you ever had such a desire, I¡¯d ensure it was fulfilled."**


    Sheng Quan choked. Did everyone in this industry have the same problem? Yu Xiangwan was like this, and now Gu Zhao too.


    Honestly, given their personalities, if she ever joked about wanting *them*, she half-expected they¡¯d voluntarily climb into gift boxes themselves.


    Gu Zhao might not be certain, but Yu Xiangwan definitely would¡ªthat guy would probably even tie a ceremonious little bow on the box.


    Good thing her resolve was firm, or she might have fallen into corruption.


    Chairman Sheng took a moment to steady himself, then stood up and stretched. "I¡¯m going to watch the talent show tomorrow. The company¡¯s in your hands."


    "Everyone says I¡¯m extravagant¡ªwell, it¡¯s about time I showed them just how extravagant I can be."

 Chapter 20

    The next day, Sheng Quan boarded a plane again.


    The driver¡ªreferred to as "Big Brother" by those around her¡ªremained by her side as usual.


    For the most part, he was a man of few words, and it was unclear whether by design or coincidence, his presence was often so subtle that one might barely notice him. After observing him for a while, Sheng Quan concluded that this was intentional. No matter where she went or what she did, his positioning was always calculated¡ªboth to remain inconspicuous and to ensure he could step in swiftly if danger arose.


    Admittedly, after "flaunting her wealth," having a silent but highly capable bodyguard was one of the reasons she felt at ease traveling so freely.


    Take this moment, for instance. The driver sat in the outermost seat, and every time a flight attendant approached, though his body remained still, Sheng Quan could sense the immediate tension in his muscles.


    He had definitely served in the military.


    Even on a plane, faced with a friendly and beautiful flight attendant, his vigilance never wavered. It wasn¡¯t paranoia¡ªjust absolute professionalism when it came to her safety.


    If Sheng Quan could sense it, the flight attendant certainly could too. Those who flew frequently encountered all kinds of passengers, and the moment the two boarded, she¡¯d pegged him as a bodyguard.


    Domestic bosses who traveled with bodyguards were rare. After all, society was peaceful, and surveillance cameras were everywhere. Unless someone¡¯s wealth reached an extraordinary level, most would only bring assistants or subordinates on trips.


    But flying with a bodyguard¡ªone who looked exceptionally skilled at that¡ªconfirmed the rumors: Sheng Quan was every bit as extravagant as the internet claimed.


    The flight attendant kept her thoughts to herself, maintaining a neutral expression, though she exchanged meaningful glances with her colleagues once she stepped away.


    They¡¯d noticed Sheng Quan the moment she boarded.


    After all, the trending hashtag [#StrawberryTVMovesTalentShowFiveHoursEarlierAfterShengQuansComment] was currently blowing up online. In this digital age, who didn¡¯t browse the web? At first, they¡¯d wondered if it was just a case of shared names.


    But once she stepped onto the plane, all doubts vanished. This was undoubtedly *the* Sheng Quan.


    Her age, appearance, city of origin, and the "bodyguard" beside her¡ªthis was the young tycoon, no question.


    Judging by their observations, she might even be wealthier than the rumors suggested. After all, the bodyguard exuded a level of professionalism that spoke volumes. So, was she flying to Xinan to attend that show, *Your Voice Awaits*?


    Unbeknownst to her, the flight attendants were discreetly speculating about just how rich she was. Not that it mattered¡ªSheng Quan *was* wealthy, though strictly in the digital realm.


    After the task was issued, she¡¯d experimented. Online banking? No. Digital purchases? Also a no. This billion yuan could only be spent through forms of virtual currency that mainstream society didn¡¯t recognize.


    For example, if she tried to use online banking to shop, the cashier would politely direct her to scan a QR code. But if she attempted to pay with livestreaming tokens or voting credits from a talent show? The staff would still smile¡ªbefore dialing the police or calling a psychiatric hospital to haul her away.


    This billion was strictly confined to "currency the public doesn¡¯t acknowledge."


    Of course, dumping it all into livestreaming platforms was out of the question. Not that it was impossible¡ª*Starlight* had plenty of characters, and sifting through livestreamers to find a few with decent moral values wouldn¡¯t be hard.


    But the real issue was that while splurging a billion might feel exhilarating, it wouldn¡¯t maximize the money¡¯s potential. Once spent, it¡¯d be gone¡ªadding nothing but another layer to her already "extravagant" image.


    *Your Voice Awaits*, however, was different.


    For one, Strawberry TV might be fading, but it was still a nationally accessible network. Second, the show leaned toward philanthropy. Investing this billion here struck the perfect balance¡ªpractical and socially impactful.


    That said, this wasn¡¯t her only option. With money in hand, she could do anything. Supporting Jin Jiu didn¡¯t *have* to happen through this show alone.


    True, she couldn¡¯t spend this billion on herself¡ªbut that didn¡¯t mean she couldn¡¯t leverage it for other gains, whether for herself or her company.


    Take, for instance, securing an entire network¡¯s resources.


    ***


    Strawberry TV seized Sheng Quan¡¯s olive branch at lightning speed, moving so smoothly it was as if they feared someone might snatch it away.


    They weren¡¯t a provincial-level broadcaster. Though they¡¯d enjoyed a brief golden age, the rise of digital entertainment had left their ratings in steady decline.


    If this continued, they¡¯d either be absorbed by rival networks or fade into obscurity.


    No one wanted that¡ªespecially not for a station that had once thrived. So when the deputy director pitched the strategy upstairs, the station head didn¡¯t hesitate long before approving.


    Call it publicity stunting. Call it clinging to a lifeline.


    As for whether a legacy station groveling before a young woman like Sheng Quan was undignified? When your ratings are in freefall, pride is a luxury you can¡¯t afford.


    For the higher-ups, this was a gamble¡ªa chance to turn a bicycle into a motorcycle.


    But for the *Your Voice Awaits* production team, it was like a miracle falling straight from the heavens.


    As mentioned before, *Your Voice Awaits* had never been a priority for the network. Getting it approved had been a battle, and the budget was laughably small¡ªwith an ungodly 1:00 a.m. timeslot to boot.


    In this hyper-competitive industry, talent shows were almost always livestreamed, giving audiences a sense of real-time participation. But who would tune in at *1:00 a.m.*?


    At that hour, not only would the contestants be exhausted, but the judges and even the audience would struggle to stay awake. Picture this: a singer pouring their heart out onstage while the judges nod along¡ªand the crowd snores in the background.


    But complaints were pointless. The market was saturated with similar shows. Strawberry TV alone was airing *four* competing talent programs at the same time.


    The others had hefty budgets, top-tier production, and famous judges. What did *Your Voice Awaits* have? A makeup artist who turned contestants into pirates?


    The poor show had no choice but to endure its cursed timeslot, clinging to the faint hope that *maybe*, against all odds, it would strike gold.


    And then¡ªit actually *did*.


    Suddenly, the show was flooded with online attention, and in an unprecedented move, its airtime was shifted *five hours earlier* to the prime 8:00 p.m. slot. What kind of divine luck was this?


    All because of a single sentence from Sheng Quan.


    The producer knew full well the network had ulterior motives¡ªbut that didn¡¯t stop him from wanting to enshrine her in gold and light incense in her honor every day.


    Although the sudden rescheduling of the program threw the original timeline into chaos¡ªnotifying mentors, contestants, and audiences alone was enough to make everyone''s heads spin¡ªthe entire team was buzzing with excitement amid the frenzy.


    Especially since the online hype around this incident continued to grow.


    Strawberry TV might have been on its last legs, but the general public didn¡¯t know that. To them, this was proof of Sheng Quan¡¯s immense influence¡ªso much so that a major network would shift its programming just to please her.


    Posts and tweets speculating about her identity multiplied overnight. Some estimated her net worth to be in the hundreds of billions based on her ownership of Huaxing Building. Others theorized she belonged to a powerful family, and a few even insisted she was royalty from some small country.


    The last theory was so outlandish that it was universally dismissed as a joke.


    **BigRascal:** *"Let¡¯s be real, even the king of a small country probably isn¡¯t as rich as Sheng Quan."*


    **WaterLover:** *"True. Small countries aren¡¯t as wealthy as people think¡ªapart from a few exceptions, most don¡¯t have much national capital to begin with."*


    **FishTastesGreat:** *"Just Huaxing Building alone is enough to outshine them all."*


    **KiwiDreamer:** *"By the way, is anyone watching ''Sing for You'' tonight?"*


    **NameChangerDaily:** *"Already camped in front of the TV, waiting for 8 PM."*


    No wonder the production team was electrified¡ªSheng Quan wasn¡¯t a celebrity, but she might as well have been. Her influence was staggering. When she expressed love for *The Road of Life*, the original novel was flooded with new readers and gifts.


    When she invested in a drama, audiences lined up to watch it before filming even wrapped.


    When she plucked Yan Hui from his food stall, he became an overnight sensation as the "handsome pancake guy"¡ªwithout a single acting credit to his name.


    After news broke of her purchasing Huaxing Building, *The Road of Life* cast saw their popularity skyrocket all over again.


    Marketing accounts adored the wealthy book fan, Ms. Sheng. Despite never appearing in public, she single-handedly fueled countless video channels and blogs.


    If Sheng Quan actually showed up at *Sing for You*, wouldn¡¯t this be her first public appearance?


    To say tickets for *Sing for You* had become priceless wouldn¡¯t be an exaggeration.


    Anyone with free time wanted in on the action, and aspiring artists or influencers hoping to become the "next Yan Hui" scrambled for tickets. After all, the internet had already pieced together Yan Hui¡¯s lavish treatment¡ªthough his contract details remained secret, everyone knew his agency had assigned him three personal assistants.


    Even his cameo in *Crane Blossom* had been dug up by netizens.


    *The Road of Life* wasn¡¯t even finished, yet he¡¯d already landed a role in another well-funded production¡ªsuch generous resources made green with envy.


    Everyone knew Starlight Entertainment had only signed Yan Hui so far, meaning the company¡¯s entire roster of opportunities was his alone. The idea of being the second, third, or even fourth signing? Irresistible.


    *Sing for You*¡¯s audience seats went from "nobody wanted them even for free" to "impossible to get." Many netizens complained about the swarm of spectators making tickets scarce, while contestants¡¯ friends and family reported offers to buy their spots at exorbitant prices.


    Insiders chimed in under pseudonyms:


    **MetaphysicsFail:** *"Of course tickets are impossible to get. It¡¯s not just curious onlookers¡ªindustry people are the ones really desperate for them."*


    **PeaPod:** *"From what I¡¯ve heard, a lot of folks are pulling strings at Strawberry TV¡ªsome want seats near Sheng Quan, others are begging producers to sneak them into the contestant lineup."*


    **VioletEyes:** *"Not just small-time artists, either. A friend in production told me directors hunting for investors are also after tickets. If they can secure Sheng Quan¡¯s backing, they¡¯ll get both funding and fame."*


    **BornHandsome:** *"I know at least two rookie idols whose agencies dressed them up to mimic Yan Hui¡¯s style before seating them in the audience. I won¡¯t spell out what they¡¯re after¡ªyou can guess (laughs)."*


    These insider scoops were met with enthusiastic responses.


    **EmmaGrillMaster:** *"LMAOOOOO is this the ¡®stand-in strategy¡¯?!"*


    **NoseHairRomance:** *"Copying Yan Hui¡¯s whole aesthetic is next-level hilarious."*


    **FakeNapQueen:** *"I watch shows for the stars, while stars watch shows hoping *she* notices *them*... is this the difference between me and the elite?"*


    **XuJi:** *"Am I the only one jealous of the ticket holders? I wanna see Sheng Quan in person too (cries)."*


    **PureSongFan:** *"So... ''Sing for You'' is basically an audience-seat casting call now?"*


    **LazyRoll:** *"Don¡¯t forget the contestants trying to weasel their way in. This isn¡¯t just about the audience."*


    **TruthLovesCandy:** *"Okay, I was gonna skip this and go out tonight, but now I *have* to watch this circus."*


    At this point, *Sing for You*¡¯s actual premise and contestants were irrelevant¡ªeveryone just wanted to witness this once-in-a-lifetime spectacle.


    Netizens flaunted their tickets online, each post flooded with envy. Influencers, ever pragmatic, leveraged the hype for clout.


    Even if they secretly hoped Sheng Quan might "notice" them, their main goal was riding the wave.


    Before the show even aired, their follower counts had already surged just from posting about their tickets¡ªeven if those followers were only there for behind-the-scenes tea.


    Though the audience hadn¡¯t been let in yet, recording clips like *"Waiting to enter, so hyped!"* or *"The rumors were true¡ªlook who¡¯s here!"* guaranteed massive engagement.


    What started as an offhand remark by Sheng Quan in a book fan group had snowballed into a full-blown cultural moment.


    Many predicted this would be the most attractive audience in the show¡¯s history.


    While early hype might have been fueled by strategic leaks and mixed truths, once the show became *the* event, fiction turned to fact.


    Now, even lesser-known artists were scrambling for tickets. Like influencers, they recognized that Sheng Quan¡¯s presence had transformed *Sing for You* into pure exposure gold.


    Just like with *The Road of Life*, even if they never caught her eye, simply appearing in the audience would guarantee scrutiny from the internet¡¯s eagle-eyed sleuths.


    In the entertainment world, visibility meant victory.


    At three in the afternoon, Sheng Quan stepped off the plane, followed by her driver who wheeled her luggage behind her.


    No sooner had she gotten into the car than Yuan Zixin¡¯s call came through:


    ¡°Chairman Sheng, *Sing with You* is currently trending at number four on the hot search list.¡±


    ¡°Good.¡± Sheng Quan took off her sunglasses and leaned against the car window. ¡°What about those actors I asked you about? Have they arrived?¡±


    Yuan Zixin confirmed, ¡°They¡¯re all here, and their seats have been arranged. Ming Qi will be seated next to you. Don¡¯t worry¡ªI handpicked these artists myself. They¡¯re moderately famous, have decent reputations, and their contracts are about to expire, so the company won¡¯t be liable for any termination fees.¡±


    Though she assumed the marketing team had already briefed Chairman Sheng, Yuan Zixin decided to add a reminder:


    ¡°If possible, I¡¯d suggest casting as many votes as you can during the show. It *is* a charity program, after all... From what I¡¯ve heard, several artists are planning to donate heavily to grab attention.¡±


    Sheng Quan chuckled. ¡°Relax. Do you really think I¡¯d let someone else steal the spotlight after pushing *Sing with You* to this level?¡±


    Yuan Zixin immediately felt reassured.


    After all, Sheng Quan was the one who had single-handedly revived a show so obscure it had been practically nameless, turning it into a nationwide sensation. First, she drew attention to herself, then leveraged Strawberry TV¡¯s eagerness to please for a second wave of hype.


    In the third stage, she instructed artists planning to jump ship to Starlight Entertainment to buy seats, mixing truth and rumors so skillfully that the public couldn¡¯t help but buzz about the ¡°talent showcase¡± and ¡°spotting familiar faces in the audience.¡±


    And now, the final stage¡ªall that hype feeding back into itself.


    Whether the public had been interested before was debatable, but now they *definitely* were. Every aspiring celebrity and attention-seeker would claw their way into those audience seats.


    And at the center of it all? Sheng Quan.


    After hanging up, Yuan Zixin took a deep breath, feeling as though a weight she¡¯d carried for over a decade had finally lifted.


    For the nth time, she thought: *This company is going places.*


    Their boss had money, brains, and ambition.


    She needed to work hard¡ªmaybe one day, she could rise to Director Gu¡¯s level!


    Yuan Zixin daydreamed happily to herself.


    Who knows? Maybe she¡¯d even earn the honor of having ¡°a home in the office.¡±


    The only question now was how much Sheng Quan planned to donate on *Sing with You*. Since others were already scheming, it might come down to a bidding war.


    Blending in never made headlines like a grand, show-stopping gesture.


    ¡ª*Buzz.*


    Her phone vibrated twice. A friend had sent over the estimated donation amounts those artists were considering. Yuan Zixin frowned.


    *Twenty million?*


    The usual charity donations in the industry capped at a few million at most. These people were *really* going all out to steal the show. She could already picture the headlines: *¡°XX Artist Donates 20 Million! Dominates the Night!¡±*


    She seriously wanted to fly over and kick them.


    Yuan Zixin quickly forwarded the figures to Sheng Quan. Though she knew her boss was loaded, she couldn¡¯t help feeling a little uneasy.


    After all, this wasn¡¯t like investing in *The Road of Life*, where returns were guaranteed. This was charity¡ªevery cent spent would be gone for good.


    With some uncertainty, she wondered:


    *Would Chairman Sheng... really donate over twenty million?*

 Chapter 21

    **"The Voice of You"** seemed to have become the most talked-about show overnight.


    Not only did the broadcast time slot change, but adjustments were made across the board¡ªthe business team, planning team, camera crew, technical team, and even the director''s team had new members added.


    Finally, they had makeup artists who weren¡¯t just skilled at painting "pirate ship" makeup.


    All contestants were notified to arrive at the set eight hours early. The studio hastily cleared out a makeup room, where styling and outfit fittings took place while the stage outside was still being frantically set up with lights and backdrops.


    The chief director, **Zhou Weigang**, was both exhilarated and anxious. One moment, he dashed onto the stage to oversee the backdrop setup, the next, he hurried into the makeup room to check progress, and before long, he magically appeared in the camera department to inspect the newly delivered equipment.


    Once treated like an unwanted stepchild, the show had suddenly become the most cherished favorite, with so many people eagerly anticipating its premiere. This left the middle-aged man, whose temples were already streaked with white despite being only in his forties, practically wanting to micromanage every detail to ensure nothing went wrong.


    Inside the makeup room¡ªhis seventh visit in two hours¡ªthe studio had splurged on hiring a renowned makeup team. Professionals lived up to their name: the contestants, who had previously looked like they¡¯d crawled out of the sea as dark-themed villains, now had clean, radiant faces.


    They sat in order of their performance sequence, each with a large mirror in front of them so the makeup artists could quickly assess their looks. Even the outfits had upgraded from "just wear your own clothes" to "racks of carefully selected ensembles styled by a costume designer."


    To think that during the initial auditions, they¡¯d just plopped contestants onto a tiny stool, slapped on some makeup without letting them check the result, and dragged them straight to the photo shoot.


    Every contestant was buzzing with excitement.


    Those who signed up for this obscure, no-name show weren¡¯t exactly established figures¡ªthough they all harbored dreams of "maybe getting famous." Deep down, they knew how slim those chances were.


    Out of eighty participants, only four had any industry connections. One of them was only there because of a personal favor to **Zhou Weigang**, who had dragged him in to lend some credibility. The remaining seventy-six were amateurs, some of whom had barely scraped through the screening process.


    What could they do? The turnout had been pitiful!


    These days, talent shows were a dime a dozen¡ªdancing on Monday, Wednesday, and Friday, acting on Tuesday, Thursday, and Saturday, leaving just Sunday for singing.


    Anyone serious about getting on TV flocked to bigger, better-funded programs. Who¡¯d bother with this scrappy little show that had nothing to offer?


    Who could¡¯ve predicted that this very show would catch the eye of **President Sheng**?


    Grinning from ear to ear, **Zhou Weigang** returned to the makeup room once more: "Make him look stunning¡ªadd some sparkle. He¡¯s up first, so he needs to grab attention. Give him an ethereal glow, something that¡¯ll wow the audience."


    The makeup artist kept her composure. With **Zhou Weigang** beaming like a sunflower, she couldn¡¯t very well snap, *"Do you think I¡¯m a magician? I can¡¯t turn an ordinary guy into a celestial being."* Instead, she dutifully touched up Contestant #1¡¯s makeup, adding a bit more shimmer for better stage impact.


    She thought Contestant #1 was average, but the man himself stared into the mirror, convinced this was the best he¡¯d ever looked in his life.


    Once **Zhou Weigang** left, he cheerfully struck up a conversation with the contestant seated beside him, who¡¯d been admiring himself for half the day: "What¡¯s your number? How come it¡¯s not your turn yet?"


    This contestant had unusually long hair for a guy¡ªthough it wasn¡¯t uncommon in the entertainment industry, his bangs were so overgrown they nearly covered his eyes. Combined with his slight slouch, Contestant #1 could only make out that his lips were delicate and well-shaped.


    Then, those lips moved slightly:


    "**79**."


    "Whoa, second to last! No wonder you¡¯re not up yet. But I bet it¡¯ll be your turn soon."


    Undeterred by the lack of engagement, Contestant #1 prattled on excitedly: "My mom signed me up. Said just being on TV would be enough¡ªdidn¡¯t expect us to become the center of attention overnight! I was so hyped I almost couldn¡¯t sleep last night. I nearly backed out when they said it¡¯d air late, but then it blew up *and* got moved to prime time!"


    "Plus, we might even get to meet **Sheng Quan**¡ªfeels like meeting a celebrity, you know? Wonder if I can snag an autograph. You wanna try too? After the show, let¡¯s go look for her together. You seem shy, but don¡¯t worry, stick with me. I¡¯ve got top-tier social skills¡ªmight actually pull it off."


    He rambled on endlessly, while **Jin Jiu** only occasionally responded with curt phrases like *"No,"* *"Not interested,"* or *"Don¡¯t need to."*


    Contestant #1 didn¡¯t mind. If anything, he thought **Jin Jiu** was remarkably patient and polite, listening to his monologue without once telling him to shut up. Anyone else would¡¯ve bolted by now.


    After what felt like ages (one-sided, of course), Contestant #1 finally realized they hadn¡¯t introduced themselves: "Oh, right! I¡¯m **An Baixing**. My mom¡¯s a huge fangirl, hence the name. What¡¯s yours?"


    Two syllables again: "**Jin Jiu**."


    "**Jin Jiu**? Like ¡®toast¡¯? Hahaha, your folks must *love* drinking! That¡¯s a memorable name¡ªperfect for the internet era. You gotta own it! Just stride onstage and say, *¡®I¡¯m Jin Jiu, but I don¡¯t drink.¡¯* Bam, instant impression. Even if you get eliminated, that intro¡¯ll stick with people. Hey, if you blow up, take me with you! And if *I* blow up, I¡¯ll return the favor. We could even form a duo."


    Without waiting for a reply, **An Baixing** pivoted to another topic:


    "Y¡¯know, I¡¯ve heard tons of people say this show¡¯s basically **President Sheng**¡¯s dating audition. Online rumors claim she¡¯s here for a specific contestant¡ªotherwise, why pick *The Voice of You* out of all the big-name shows?"


    He glanced around conspiratorially before whispering: "After the show went viral, they actually planned to replace us with professional singers. But they chickened out¡ªafraid they might accidentally cut **President Sheng**¡¯s favorite."


    "Man, the makeup artist made me look *this* good¡ªwhat if **President Sheng** wants me as her trophy boy? I¡¯m an artist, not a gigolo! And you¡ªcan¡¯t see much of your face, but I bet you¡¯d clean up nice too. Maybe she¡¯s into the cold, mysterious type."


    Perhaps worn down by the relentless chatter, **Jin Jiu** finally spoke a full sentence: "No one would like me. They kept us because swapping contestants would look bad."


    "Fair, we¡¯re total unknowns. Wait¡ª" **An Baixing** blinked. "You *can* form long sentences! And your voice¡ªkinda husky, but in a cool way. You must sing great."


    Jin Jiu froze for a moment, his hand instinctively rising to lightly touch his throat.


    He hesitated, uncertainty coloring his tone: "Is my voice... pleasant to listen to?"


    "Of course! Wait, you didn¡¯t know? Your voice has this naturally mesmerizing quality¡ªshorter sentences don¡¯t quite capture it, but when you speak at length, it¡¯s obvious. I¡¯m so jealous. You¡¯ve got such a gifted voice. You¡¯ll definitely make it to the next round."


    An Baixing glanced around:


    "Hey, why don¡¯t we practice a bit before your makeup artist arrives? We¡¯ll keep it quiet¡ªjust give each other some feedback before we go onstage."


    "I don¡¯t¡ª" Before Jin Jiu could finish, An Baixing had already started humming softly, grinning and waggling his eyebrows as if urging Jin Jiu to listen closely.


    Jin Jiu swallowed the rest of his words and listened for a while before finally blurting out, "That line¡¯s too flat."


    The moment he spoke, he regretted it. As fellow contestants, who was he to critique? An Baixing would probably take offense.


    Jin Jiu clamped his mouth shut like a stubborn clam. But to his surprise, An Baixing paused and said, "Really? Let me try lifting it a bit."


    He sang the line again, then stopped, delighted. "Wow, that does sound better! You¡¯re amazing. Did you go to a professional school? You¡¯ve got real technique."


    "Come on, keep listening¡ªgive me more tips. Maybe I can dazzle President Sheng so much she picks me right away. If it¡¯s just performing and nothing else, I¡¯d gladly be her little songbird!"


    Jin Jiu thought to himself: *If that¡¯s the case, this bird is way too noisy.*


    An Baixing added, "Don¡¯t think I¡¯m being shameless, okay? I bet you¡ª90% of these eighty contestants are hoping to catch President Sheng¡¯s eye. Honestly, I think she must¡¯ve taken a liking to one of us. No, scratch that¡ª*everyone* thinks so."


    He pulled out his phone and immediately scooted closer to Jin Jiu. "Perfect timing¡ªcheck this out. There¡¯s this super detailed analysis post. Let¡¯s read it together."


    Jin Jiu wasn¡¯t interested, but An Baixing had already shoved the phone in his face. Reluctantly, he glanced at the screen. The thread title was blunt: **[Analyzing: Who Is President Sheng Here For in "Voice of You"?]**


    **Original Post:**


    *Why am I so sure President Sheng came for a specific contestant? Simple: if it weren¡¯t for someone, out of all the shows out there, she¡¯d never pick this small-time program.


    Commercially, this show was practically worthless before. And as for connections? Given how the production team¡¯s been acting like they hit the jackpot lately, it¡¯s clear she had no prior ties to them.


    Most importantly, everyone knows President Sheng saw a link in the "Path of Life" book fan group before expressing interest in attending. That link only had contestants¡¯ photos, names, and ages.


    The only logical explanation is she recognized someone¡¯s name or photo and decided to come.


    Plus, President Sheng initially said she¡¯d skip it because it was too late¡ªbut pay attention. Shortly after, Strawberry TV rescheduled "Voice of You."


    Before making such a change, they¡¯d have to hold meetings, right? Discuss it, right? I¡¯ve got a friend at the network, and trust me, decisions like this aren¡¯t made on a whim. Factoring in meeting times, it¡¯s almost as if Strawberry TV acted the second President Sheng spoke.


    So here¡¯s the question: at that point, the screenshot hadn¡¯t gone viral yet. How did they know?


    And if Strawberry TV changed the slot, weren¡¯t they worried President Sheng might still no-show and leave them embarrassed? If she didn¡¯t come, the rising hype would crash, and the whole network would become a laughingstock.


    The only way they¡¯d take that risk is if they were certain she¡¯d come.


    Therefore, the truth is obvious: after President Sheng posted in the group, she privately contacted Strawberry TV and asked them to reschedule. If that¡¯s true, here¡¯s the kicker¡ª


    "Voice of You" was originally airing at 1 AM, a dead timeslot. Now it¡¯s been moved to primetime at 8 PM. Do we really believe it¡¯s just because President Sheng wanted to sleep earlier?


    Could it be... she took a liking to a contestant and nudged the show to give them a golden slot?


    Of course, this is all speculation. But with rumors swirling that President Sheng will attend tonight¡¯s taping¡ª


    If she shows up, I¡¯m 100% certain: she¡¯s here for someone.


    President Sheng¡¯s base is in Shanghai. Here¡¯s the flight duration to Xinan: a full four hours.


    Add in travel to the airport, security, waiting to board, etc., and she¡¯s spending nearly eight hours just to watch a tiny show.


    Eight. Hours. That¡¯s President Sheng¡¯s eight hours.


    We all know a wealthy person¡¯s time is their most valuable asset¡ªevery second is money. Would she really cross multiple cities, sit on a plane for over four hours, and waste another four on logistics...


    Just to watch a 90-minute show in Xinan?


    Mark my words: if President Sheng appears tonight, I¡¯m calling it now¡ªshe¡¯s absolutely leaving with one (or more) of those eighty contestants.


    I¡¯ve been counting down to the broadcast. We¡¯ll know if I¡¯m right by tonight.*


    Admittedly, the original poster¡¯s reasoning was solid¡ªeven Jin Jiu found it persuasive.


    But what did it have to do with him? President Sheng definitely wasn¡¯t here for *him*.


    An Baixing, however, was convinced this concerned them deeply. "This OP is a legend. It makes so much sense. So one of us eighty might actually be the lucky one¡ªmaybe even me!"


    "Come on, let¡¯s check the replies. Damn, this thread blew up fast¡ªover 3,000 comments already."


    Leaning against Jin Jiu, he cheerfully scrolled through the responses.


    **User "Wood Leaf":** *666666*


    **User "Sugar & Cat Lover":** *OP is cracked.*


    **User "Free Soul":** *Exactly. Unless Strawberry TV collectively lost their minds, they¡¯d never reschedule just because of a screenshot. Anyone in TV knows how chaotic last-minute changes are.*


    **User "Author, Drop 100K Words Pls":** *I get them sucking up to President Sheng, but changing the slot without confirmation? No way.*


    **User "Did You Do Your Youth Studies?":** *OP¡¯s right¡ªsomething felt off, and this explains it.*


    **User "Update 10K Words Today":** *But have y¡¯all actually looked at the contestant list? Half of them look like they crawled out of a haunted house. Who could President Sheng possibly fancy?*


    **User "Extra No. 5":** ^ *Agreed. Every one of them looks like a gremlin.*


    **User "Shang Bo":** *That¡¯s just bad makeup. With the hype now, no way the show¡¯s keeping those clown looks.*


    **User "Citizen 110":** *OP, you¡¯re a genius! Keep cooking¡ªyou¡¯re the next big analyst!*


    **Anxiety Porridge:** ["Everyone''s makeup and styling are so ugly, which means Sheng Quan couldn''t possibly be judging based on looks. So it must be the names, right?"]


    **Chenchen:** ["Most of the contestants seem to be amateurs."]


    **Tangtang Sugar Forest:** ["Not all of them. I searched the names one by one¡ªfour of them aren¡¯t newcomers: Yu Hongdou, Ma Wei, Jin Jiu, and Ai Taiying."]


    An Baixing was scrolling down with great interest when he suddenly paused at Jin Jiu¡¯s name. He turned to the person beside him in excitement:


    ¡°You¡¯ve been in the entertainment industry?! No wonder you know so much!¡±


    ¡°That means there¡¯s a one-in-four chance Sheng Quan is here for you! Damn!! Your voice is amazing, and you¡¯re so knowledgeable¡ªmaybe she really came for you!¡±


    Jin Jiu¡¯s gaze lingered on a comment below, and he coldly avoided An Baixing¡¯s enthusiasm: ¡°It¡¯s not me.¡±


    ¡°I want to be alone. Don¡¯t look for me again.¡±


    ¡°How could that be? Look, your name is right here¡ª¡± An Baixing didn¡¯t understand why his attitude had turned so icy. He eagerly looked back at the screen, only for the rest of his words to die in his throat.


    He saw it too¡ªthe comment underneath.


    **Extreme Runner:** ["First one to rule out¡ªJin Jiu. He sings horribly and has terrible character. Back then, they marketed his so-called ¡®angelic voice¡¯ and ¡®once-in-a-generation talent,¡¯ but he¡¯s just a fraud. I wouldn¡¯t have the guts to show my face again if I were him. Can¡¯t believe this washed-up loser is making a comeback. Just wait¡ªhis singing is unbearable. Who knows if he¡¯ll even manage to perform on stage?"]


    The long comment dripped with venomous malice toward Jin Jiu.


    But An Baixing didn¡¯t believe a word of it. He thought Jin Jiu was a decent guy¡ªmaybe a bit like a gloomy mushroom on a cloudy day, but at least he never got annoyed by his constant chatter.


    To him, Jin Jiu was just quiet, but still a good person.


    Even his own mom couldn¡¯t stand his rambling, but Jin Jiu listened patiently, occasionally responding, even helping his competitors practice. How could someone like that have bad character?


    An Baixing stole a glance at Jin Jiu. The man¡¯s bangs were so long that he couldn¡¯t even tell if his eyes were open. He whispered softly:


    ¡°Don¡¯t take it to heart. My mom says all celebrities have haters. This is definitely just a hater.¡±


    After a few seconds, he heard Jin Jiu murmur, ¡°Thanks.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m not upset.¡±


    In fact, he was used to it.


    After thanking him, Jin Jiu retreated back into his shell¡ªsilent, like a mushroom hiding under its cap.


    Seeing him in this ¡°I-am-a-reclusive-mushroom¡± state, An Baixing didn¡¯t dare disturb him further, though he still felt a little guilty for dragging him into reading the post.


    After some thought, he switched to a burner account and began an 800-comment war with the original poster.


    A makeup artist approached Jin Jiu and suggested:


    ¡°You¡¯ve got great features, but your hair¡¯s too long¡ªit covers half your face. Want me to trim it?¡±


    ¡°No.¡± Jin Jiu lowered his eyes, refusing to look at his reflection. ¡°I don¡¯t want people seeing my face.¡±


    The makeup artist sighed. ¡°...Alright. Guess you¡¯re not into makeup.¡±


    It was just the preliminary round anyway¡ªeach contestant only got a minute. With his attitude, he probably wouldn¡¯t advance. Might as well let him be.


    Still, she couldn¡¯t help feeling a little regretful. ¡°You¡¯re really good-looking. If you just cut your hair and put on a little makeup, you¡¯d stand out...¡±


    Jin Jiu listened in silence, but his mind echoed with the screams from his past¡ªvoices he¡¯d heard as he fled in panic:


    **¡°Jin Jiu! You¡¯re disgusting!! I never want to see your face again!¡±**


    **¡°Liar! You make me sick!!!¡±**


    The makeup artist noticed Contestant No. 79 trembling slightly before he quickly lowered his head, as if his own reflection were a monster.


    She thought: *Yep, this guy really hates makeup.*


    ***


    At 8 p.m., *Singing With You* aired live.


    A flood of viewers rushed in, and the station director grinned ear-to-ear at the soaring ratings.


    ¡°President Sheng¡¯s seat is all set, right? Whatever she wants, make sure she gets it. And if she asks for company, assign whoever she picks.¡±


    ¡°Don¡¯t worry, Director. Everything¡¯s arranged. We even added extra lighting to the audience seats¡ªwhen it¡¯s voting time, we¡¯ll turn it on...¡±


    Why? So the audience could get a good look at Sheng Quan and boost ratings, of course.


    The director beamed even wider and clapped his subordinate¡¯s shoulder. ¡°Good, good! Perfect. Oh, and President Sheng¡¯s seat¡ªit¡¯s been changed, right?¡±


    ¡°Yes, yes! We moved the sofa from your office there, just as you ordered. But, Director... isn¡¯t this a bit too obvious? Won¡¯t the audience think we¡¯re sucking up too hard?¡±


    ¡°That¡¯s the point!¡± The director chuckled smugly. ¡°Why do you think ratings are high? Because they love watching us fawn over her! Little Zheng, let me teach you something¡ªin this business, never go against the audience.¡±


    And the audience was indeed having a blast.


    Since it was a live broadcast, viewers weren¡¯t just watching on TV¡ªthey were also flooding the online stream with comments. Some even took to forums for real-time discussions.


    **Foodie~Fool:** ["666666"]


    **Chilling Breeze:** ["I¡¯m here I¡¯m here!"]


    **Who Sent the Letter?:** ["Where¡¯s Sheng Quan?"]


    **Yomowantsacat:** ["OP! Are you here?!"]


    **FishyFish:** ["FYI¡ªthe one sitting on the black sofa in the front row is Sheng Quan."]


    **LittleSillyGoose:** ["How can you tell?"]


    **SleepTonight:** ["LMAO, she¡¯s the only one with a sofa. Even the judges get swivel chairs. Also, have you noticed the people around her constantly handing her snacks and drinks?"]


    **CuminFTW:** ["OMG THAT¡¯S SHENG QUAN?! MY PRESIDENT SHENG?! THE OP?! SHE¡¯S SO PRETTY!!"]


    **NotAHoeLeaf:** ["Gorgeous and loaded¡ªwhat kinda dream life is this?"]


    **DecadeLongNap:** ["My jaw dropped. Sheng Quan is actually this stunning? Love it."]


    Sheng Quan¡¯s looks might not stand out in the cutthroat entertainment industry, but she wasn¡¯t a celebrity. Among civilians, she was undeniably striking.


    With naturally delicate features, top-tier skincare, professional hairstyling, expert makeup, and dance lessons to polish her posture, her aura was on another level.


    Most importantly, while others were nourished by fame, Sheng Quan was nourished by cold hard cash. Even she sometimes caught her reflection and marveled at her own glow-up.


    Proof that avoiding overtime was the ultimate beauty hack.


    After gushing over her appearance, the internet¡¯s attention shifted elsewhere:


    **Chaos in the Melon Patch:** ["6666, is that a mousse cake on her tray? And is that ice cre¡ª"]


    ¡¾Rain, and sparkling water too! Is that Ming Qi sitting next to her? And Liu Zi''an beside her? The whole place is packed with celebrities! If this isn¡¯t Sheng Quan, I¡¯ll stand on my head and wash my hair!!¡¿


    Potato Stew with Potatoes: ¡¾Why is the host only introducing the show? Introduce Sheng Quan too!¡¿


    A Struggling College Student Drowning in Thesis: ¡¾Holy crap! The audience seats are full of gorgeous guys and girls!¡¿


    Daydreamer: ¡¾I spotted quite a few influencers too, hahahaha so this really is a selection show for the rich and famous¡¿


    Huajia: ¡¾The cameraman keeps panning to Sheng Quan¡ªgive that guy a bonus chicken drumstick!¡¿


    Plankton Requests a Cameo: ¡¾LMAO, three out of ten cutaways are for Sheng Quan. The production team is clearly desperate to kiss up to the big boss 23333¡¿


    Sheng Quan was thoroughly enjoying the VIP treatment from the show.


    As netizens had observed, she was the only one in the venue sitting on a plush sofa¡ªand judging by its material and comfort level, it definitely didn¡¯t come cheap.


    Strawberry TV had even assigned a dedicated staff member to cater to her every need.


    The cake was soft, the sparkling water freshly made, and they¡¯d even handed her a menu with an extensive selection, topped by *jianbing guozi* (Chinese crepes), complete with customizable add-ons.


    Sheng Quan: ¡°...¡±


    Well... this was pretty damn nice.


    Especially since Yuan Zixin had arranged for her to be flanked by stunning beauties¡ªLiu Zi''an, a tall and handsome heartthrob, and Ming Qi, a sweet, soft-spoken angel.


    Earlier, before the show started, Ming Qi had greeted her with a sugary smile that nearly made Sheng Quan¡¯s heart skip a beat.


    Ming Qi was young, spoiled by her family, and brimming with innocent charm.


    But while naive, she was also obedient. Yuan Zixin had drilled into her beforehand to be extra-friendly to Sheng Quan, so she dutifully peeled peanuts and pine nuts for her¡ªwhile sneaking a few for herself.


    Ming Qi grew more and more enthusiastic as she peeled. Normally on a strict diet, she seized this rare chance to snack openly with gusto.


    Sheng Quan, who hadn¡¯t planned on eating anything, gradually succumbed to the chorus of:


    ¡°President Sheng, eat this!¡±


    ¡°President Sheng, try this one!¡±


    ¡°This is so good, President Sheng, you have to try it too!¡±


    The production team, mistaking her indulgence for a love of food, magically produced an array of snacks and drinks within arm¡¯s reach.


    Sheng Quan, who was simply weak to pretty faces: ¡°...¡±


    No wonder they say beauty is a curse. How could anyone resist such a sweet, delicate girl cooing at them?


    Luckily, the show started before she could stuff herself into a food coma¡ªotherwise, she¡¯d be watching the performances with a bloated stomach.


    When the host introduced the first contestant, An Baixing, Sheng Quan was surprised.


    Years later, An Baixing would be the only person Jin Jiu, who had long shut everyone out, allowed close.


    After Jin Jiu¡¯s death, An Baixing once expressed regret, saying he¡¯d learned too late that he could¡¯ve met him twenty years earlier. If only he hadn¡¯t dropped out of the competition back then because the show ran too late, things might¡¯ve been different.


    They met too late.


    Had they become friends sooner, maybe Jin Jiu wouldn¡¯t have met such a tragic end.


    The novel never specified which show An Baixing had abandoned, but seeing his name on the contestant list now, Sheng Quan realized¡ªthis must be that fabled ¡°twenty years earlier.¡±


    Though it made sense.


    In the original story, An Baixing quit because the show ran too late. But now, *Sing for You* had been moved five hours earlier, and its sudden popularity meant he had no reason to drop out.


    Seated on the director¡¯s sleek black sofa, Sheng Quan smiled faintly.


    *This time, you two should get to meet much sooner.*


    An Baixing¡¯s performance was genuinely impressive¡ªstill raw, but already showing the talent that would later make him a star. When his one-minute slot ended, he gazed hopefully at the massive voting screen.


    Sheng Quan tilted her head slightly, smiling at Ming Qi to signal her to vote.


    Ming Qi, who¡¯d just finished applauding, beamed back and handed her a freshly peeled peanut.


    ¡°President Sheng, for you.¡±


    Sheng Quan: ¡°...¡±


    Right¡ªYuan Zixin had mentioned that Ming Qi, sheltered and young, wasn¡¯t the most socially aware.


    Still, her cluelessness was oddly endearing.


    Switching tactics, Sheng Quan glanced at Liu Zi''an.


    Had he been under twenty, he might¡¯ve been just as oblivious. But at twenty-eight, a seasoned industry insider, he immediately understood.


    Yuan Zixin¡¯s seating arrangement was no accident¡ªSheng Quan was his future boss, and he knew better than to ignore her cues.


    Liu Zi''an pulled up the audience voting screen on his tablet, scanned to top up, and after a moment¡¯s thought, cast a thousand votes for An Baixing.


    Viewers at home followed suit:


    Xinxizi Ning: ¡¾Not bad at all.¡¿


    Sleepy Cat Lover: ¡¾Better than I expected¡ªthrowing in a dollar.¡¿


    Duladucoco: ¡¾I thought this show would be a circus, but the first contestant¡¯s actually solid.¡¿


    Vinegar-Fried Potato Shreds: ¡¾Even though he¡¯s up first, I¡¯ll bet he makes it to the semifinals.¡¿


    Scarlet Moon: ¡¾Zi''an voted for him! I¡¯ll match it! Doing my part for charity!¡¿


    Bless Me, I¡¯m Taking the Civil Service Exam: ¡¾Did anyone else see the pretty girl next to President Sheng feeding her peanuts? Ugh, I want a beauty hand-feeding me too.¡¿


    Little Ming Pig: ¡¾That¡¯s Ming Qi¡ªshe¡¯s an idol, of course she¡¯s gorgeous!¡¿


    A Purple Fan Turned OT9: ¡¾My Qiqi! No one can resist her, not even President Sheng!¡¿


    Solitary Gift: ¡¾Hey, is that an unlit light stick next to President Sheng? Is it hers?¡¿


    Amid the chatter, eagle-eyed netizens spotted the light stick beside Sheng Quan.


    The discovery sent the already-hyped crowd into overdrive.


    Sending You a Flower: ¡¾LIGHT STICK!!! She¡¯s definitely here for someone specific!!!¡¿


    No More Overtime: ¡¾Could it belong to someone near her?¡¿


    Pale Blue Bamboo: ¡¾No way. Everyone around her is a celebrity¡ªeven if they liked a contestant, they¡¯d never openly wave a light stick.¡¿


    Peach Blossom Ahhh: ¡¾Called it!!! That OP was right!!! Sheng Quan came for a contestant!!¡¿


    Train Station Midnight Dash: ¡¾OMG REALLY?! WHO¡¯S THE LUCKY ONE?! I¡¯M ALL IN!!!¡¿


    Oreolio: ¡¾Sheng Quan¡¯s got an eye for talent¡ªshe plucked Yan Hui from a *jianbing* stall, and that leaked filming clip? Dude¡¯s got *presence*.¡¿


    Adorable Little A-Mo: ¡¾So who is it?! I¡¯m dying to know!!¡¿


    Chocolate Fox: ¡¾Scratching head, screaming wildly, squealing uncontrollably¡ªAaaah, my gossip-hungry heart can''t hold back anymore! Whoever can make President Sheng bring a light sign must be extraordinary!!¡¿


    With this clue, netizens began noticing more hints.


    Lucky Draw Winner (Lost 10 lbs): ¡¾Did you notice? Sheng Quan never votes, but every time a skilled contestant finishes singing, she glances at Liu Zi''an, and then Liu Zi''an casts his vote.¡¿


    Eats Three Kids in One Bite: ¡¾Liu Zi''an: Just a celebrity voting bot.¡¿


    Raising the Flag for Mumu: ¡¾Is this the aura of a big shot? So aloof, I love it!¡¿


    Faint Flute Melodies: ¡¾As expected of Sheng Quan¡ªeven celebrities are just her voting tools!¡¿


    Babala: ¡¾Honestly, she¡¯s just a solo stan. Why would a solo stan vote for anyone else?¡¿


    Umbrella in the Rain: ¡¾I bet fifty cents that light sign is definitely hers.¡¿


    Between watching the performances, voting, and passionately debating whether the light sign belonged to Sheng Quan, everyone was practically multitasking like mad.


    On Weibo, hashtags kept trending¡ªsome bought by the show, others purely fueled by curious netizens.


    #Singing With You Premieres#


    #How Much Is Sheng Quan¡¯s Sofa?#


    #How Many Times Did Ming Qi Offer Sheng Quan Peanuts?#


    #Sheng Quan¡¯s Light Sign#


    #Who¡¯s the Light Sign For?#


    After An Baixing finished singing, he returned backstage and sidled up to Jin Jiu again. Though they hadn¡¯t known each other long, he¡¯d already decided they were fated to be friends.


    Excited and nervous, he chattered away: ¡°I got 3,000 votes¡ªthat should be enough to pass. Your voice is amazing, and you¡¯re so professional. You¡¯ll definitely make it too.¡±


    Jin Jiu stayed silent, so An Baixing kept rambling: "Did you see the trending search? Sheng Quan really came for a specific contestant¡ªshe brought a light sign."


    ¡°But we¡¯re already past contestant No. 30, and she still hasn¡¯t raised it. Maybe it¡¯s for someone later.¡±


    Many shared An Baixing¡¯s guess, speculating one after another. But even after contestant No. 70, Sheng Quan remained unmoved.


    I Am the Cutest: ¡¾What if it¡¯s not even a light sign?¡¿


    Octopus Who Loves Clocking Out: ¡¾No way!! I¡¯ve been in fandom for years¡ªthat¡¯s 100% a light sign! And an expensive one too!¡¿


    Little Lamb¡¯s Giggle: ¡¾See pics ¡¾Pic1¡¿¡¾Pic2¡¿¡ªit¡¯s exactly the same kind of light sign.¡¿


    Wang Fenjin & Zhang Baibai: ¡¾Only five contestants left¡ªcould it be one of them?¡¿


    Plum Creek Lord: ¡¾76 now!¡¿


    I¡¯m a Sweet Potato: ¡¾77!¡¿


    Silent Snowfall: ¡¾78¡¯s done, just two left!¡¿


    Longing for Home: ¡¾SHE MOVED! SHENG QUAN MOVED!!! AAAAAH I KNEW IT WAS A LIGHT SIGN!!!!¡¿


    It was Jin Jiu¡¯s turn.


    He waited in the dim passageway, eyes hollow and lifeless.


    The world¡ªboth online and off¡ªwas buzzing with excitement, but none of it touched him.


    The only difference this time was that far more people would witness his weakness.


    When the host called his number, he stepped forward without hesitation, his mind numb.


    Jin Jiu stood on stage, palms slick with cold sweat, his mind involuntarily replaying his last concert¡ªwhen the audience plunged into darkness after his final note, a silent black sea.


    That moment had haunted him for seven years, leaving him voiceless on stage ever since.


    His back drenched in sweat, Jin Jiu forced himself to lift his gaze, face pale.


    And then¡ªhe froze.


    There, in the audience, the girl seated on the black sofa smiled and raised her light sign high.


    ¡¾JIN JIU, YOU GOT THIS!!!¡¿


    The spotlight illuminated her, making her glow like a radiant deity.


    Time seemed to slow.


    Before he even realized it, tears welled in Jin Jiu¡¯s eyes. Dazed, he thought¡ªhow could someone shine so brightly?


    So brightly, it made him want to cry.


    ¡ªBackstage¡ª


    The director was ecstatic:


    ¡°Yes! MORE LIGHT!! MORE!!! Hit her with all the spotlights!! Make sure EVERYONE sees President Sheng holding that sign!!¡±


    ¡°Genius! Whoever came up with adding lighting effects to the audience seats is a genius!! Yes, just like that¡ªflashy and dazzling!! Make President Sheng the center of attention!!!¡±


    ¡°HAHAHAHAHA our ratings¡ªWE¡¯RE SAVED!!¡±

 Chapter 22

    Sheng Quan felt her vision flooded with blinding white light.


    What was the lighting technician doing??


    For a moment, she had the illusion that every spotlight in the venue was trained solely on her.


    Fortunately, the technician seemed to know when to pull back¡ªthe intensity gradually softened, shifting from glaring brilliance to a warm glow.


    Even so, the ratings skyrocketed in that instant.


    The live stream¡¯s comment section was on the verge of crashing from the flood of messages.


    [AHHHHHHHHHH!!!]


    [I¡¯m losing it¡ªSheng-jie actually brought a lightboard with her!!]


    [Who the heck is Jin Jiu???]


    [6666 She¡¯s a legit solo stan!!]


    [History in the making!!!]


    [I knew it! I freaking called it!]


    Backstage, the director grinned so wide his face might split, watching the soaring metrics.


    A subordinate hastily pulled up Jin Jiu¡¯s profile, looking concerned as he leaned in:


    ¡°Director, Jin Jiu has quite a few scandals attached to him...¡±


    ¡°Scandals?!¡± The director tensed instantly. ¡°Did he break the law?¡±


    ¡°No, but there¡¯s a lot of unverified gossip.¡±


    The director exhaled in relief. ¡°If you know it¡¯s just gossip, why bring it up? As long as he¡¯s not a criminal, who cares about scandals?¡±


    ¡°But what if it affects Chairwoman Sheng? If she gets backlash and refuses to come back...¡±


    *Sing for You* owed its explosive viewership entirely to Sheng Quan¡¯s presence. While the show had built enough momentum to survive without her, it would never sustain this level of hype.


    The director chuckled, shooting him a knowing glance.


    ¡°You think just because Sheng Quan is young, she¡¯s some impulsive hothead? The show¡¯s popularity isn¡¯t just our doing¡ªthere¡¯s bigger machinery at work behind the scenes.¡±


    ¡°Let me put it this way: people from backgrounds like hers? Saying they¡¯ve got eight hundred tricks up their sleeves would be an understatement.¡±


    His gaze returned to the screen, brimming with satisfaction. ¡°Our station just hit the jackpot.¡±


    On screen, the host triggered the countdown.


    Yet Jin Jiu remained frozen, staring at Sheng Quan in a daze.


    As the seconds ticked away, the comments shifted from excitement to confusion.


    [Why isn¡¯t he singing?]


    [What¡¯s going on?]


    [Oh crap, is he a flop?]


    [I looked him up¡ªapparently his singing sucks.]


    [Even Sheng Quan can misjudge someone.]


    [Time¡¯s almost up!]


    [I¡¯m dying here¡ªjust open your mouth already!]


    Sheng Quan, however, showed no impatience. She kept her lightboard raised, her expression unwavering in its anticipation.


    If she wasn¡¯t worried, the host certainly was.


    The moment Sheng Quan lifted that ¡°Jin Jiu¡± lightboard, the host knew this would go down in history as an iconic moment.


    With Sheng Quan¡¯s backing, Jin Jiu was guaranteed a straight shot to the finals¡ªand with these two as recurring fixtures, the show¡¯s ratings would keep climbing.


    She¡¯d already fantasized about her future: promotions, raises, a house with cats and dogs, maybe even a villa.


    And now? Jin Jiu wasn¡¯t singing.


    No performance meant no semifinals, no finals, no votes from his billionaire supporter!


    In those thirty frantic seconds, the host¡¯s mind raced, desperate to snatch the mic and sing for him.


    Miraculously, with twenty seconds left, Jin Jiu finally began.


    His entire world narrowed to Sheng Quan.


    The first note flowed effortlessly¡ªsinging was so ingrained in him that the moment he started, he slipped seamlessly into the music.


    Twenty seconds. Eight lines.


    Sheng Quan listened, enchanted. No wonder the book later described Jin Jiu¡¯s voice as ¡°a divine balm for the soul.¡±


    If his younger self had relied on raw, dazzling talent, this version was richer, deeper, like a warmth that left you pleasantly intoxicated.


    The difference was like comparing a thrilling new vintage to a centuries-old masterpiece.


    Her smile deepened. She made no effort to hide her admiration, lifting the lightboard higher.


    As the twenty seconds ended, thunderous applause erupted.


    Behind the scenes, director Chen Weigang frantically gestured at planted audience members: ¡°Louder! LOUDER!!¡±


    But Jin Jiu barely registered the applause¡ªsomething he hadn¡¯t heard in years.


    His gaze never left Sheng Quan.


    Not even while singing.


    When he saw her grin¡ªthat unmistakable ¡°*I¡¯m blown away*¡± expression¡ªas she raised her lightboard, something in him stirred.


    Haltingly, almost unfamiliar with the motion, he smiled back.


    In that moment, seven years of struggle suddenly felt insignificant.


    The comments section exploded anew:


    [Wait, that was actually good?]


    [Who said he couldn¡¯t sing?]


    [Knew Chairwoman Sheng¡¯s taste was impeccable.]


    [Solid. Voting for him.]


    [Only a snippet, but you can tell he¡¯s skilled.]


    [False alarm, folks¡ªdude¡¯s got pipes.]


    [*chef¡¯s kiss*]


    Most viewers, though tuning in for drama, had basic discernment. They could separate ¡°good¡± from ¡°bad¡±¡ªand some even trusted that ¡°rich people have impeccable taste.¡±


    During the voting segment, Jin Jiu¡¯s tally climbed steadily on the big screen, ultimately landing at 5,000.


    The host exhaled in relief. With numbers like that, he¡¯d advance. Her feline-canine-villa dreams were safe.


    Only one question remained: Why hadn¡¯t Sheng Quan voted yet?


    Time was almost up!


    Perhaps sensing the audience¡¯s curiosity, the camera kept cutting to Sheng Quan¡ªnow frowning at her phone while still holding the lightboard.


    [What¡¯s Sheng Quan doing?]


    [Not voting?]


    [She¡¯s talking to some guy (staff badge). Ohhh, she¡¯s annoyed.]


    [Any lip-readers here??]


    [The guy¡¯s definitely crew.]


    [She looks *done*. What¡¯s happening?]


    [Just speak up¡ªwe want to hear too!!!]


    Finally, in the last second, Jin Jiu¡¯s votes catapulted from 6,000 to 106,000.


    The voting process was fully transparent¡ªeven a single vote updated instantly on the official site. Many viewers multitasked: TV for the show, phone for comments, tablet for real-time stats.


    The spike prompted immediate screenshots flooding forums:


    [**SureBet**: 100K votes.]


    Yet no one was surprised. For Sheng Quan, dropping 100K votes was basically casual flexing¡ªthis was the woman who¡¯d once tossed 10 million at a film crew, after all.


    The real mystery remained: *What on earth was she arguing about with that staffer?*


    The last contestant was purely there to join the fun. While waiting in the passageway, she stumbled upon a juicy piece of gossip up close, leaving her utterly exhilarated. As she sang, her eyes kept darting toward Sheng Quan in the audience, as if she couldn''t resist stealing glances at the wealthy magnate while she had the stage to herself.


    It was clear she wanted to take full advantage of her time on stage to get her fill of the billionaire.


    Perhaps because she was so fired up¡ªor maybe because the song she chose was an adrenaline-pumping anthem¡ªher performance carried more emotion than usual, earning approving nods from the judges.


    Meanwhile, the live chat was going wild:


    **[You can tell she¡¯s a gossip lover.]**


    **[She might as well have ¡®I just got the tea and I¡¯m loving it¡¯ written all over her face.]**


    **[LMAO she¡¯s singing her heart out!]**


    **[Those little side glances are killing me!]**


    **[I swear I could hear ¡®please let me ride Sheng Quan¡¯s coattails¡¯ in her voice!]**


    **[OMG!! That tune is so catchy, I¡¯m obsessed!]**


    After finishing her performance, the contestant stood quietly, waiting to leave the stage. When she saw her votes skyrocket to 1,500, she was stunned.


    Her original plan¡ªjust show up, have fun, then go home and sleep¡ªwas officially scrapped. Instead, she would join the other advancing contestants for a week of closed-door training under the show¡¯s guidance before moving on to the second round.


    And with that, *"Sing with You"* wrapped up its first episode.


    Even though it was only the preliminary round, the ratings held strong throughout the broadcast, especially during the moment Sheng Quan raised her light sign¡ªwhen viewership shot up like a rocket.


    What thrilled the production team the most was their sheer luck: Jin Jiu¡¯s number was second-to-last, meaning the most eye-catching segment landed right at the end. They wouldn¡¯t even need clever editing for the recorded version¡ªjust cut it normally, and it would work perfectly!


    And they didn¡¯t even have to orchestrate anything¡ªthe audience was already doing the work for them.


    Just in this one episode, viewers had already spotted:


    - **¡°The Overenthusiastic Clapping Guy¡±**


    - **¡°The Intense Staring Lady¡±**


    - **¡°A Male Influencer Touching Up His Makeup Live on Camera¡±**


    - **¡°Someone Wearing a Mask and Sunglasses¡ªDefinitely a Celeb¡±**


    - **¡°A Bald Director Repeatedly Trying (and Failing) to Sneak to the Front Row¡±**


    But none of these topics could overshadow the two biggest mysteries:


    **¡°What exactly did Sheng Quan say to the staff?¡±** and **#WhoIsJinJiu?**


    Even **#ShengQuanLightSign** lost traction, but these two questions didn¡¯t just linger¡ªthey surged even higher after the episode ended.


    Sheng Quan¡¯s own commentary? **¡°Never underestimate humanity¡¯s thirst for answers.¡±**


    After scouring the internet, Ming Qi asked, **¡°Aren¡¯t you going to clarify things for Jin Jiu?¡±**


    Sheng Quan took the fruit Ming Qi handed her. **¡°They¡¯ll trust the truth they uncover themselves more than anything I say.¡±**


    **¡°I just need to guide them into realizing there¡¯s more to the story.¡±**


    She had never been worried about Jin Jiu¡¯s so-called ¡°scandals.¡±


    Right was right, and wrong was wrong. Jin Jiu had reported the poisoning incident immediately, and the culprit had served three full years in prison. Not a single cent from that concert had gone into Jin Jiu¡¯s pockets¡ªif Starlight Entertainment¡¯s marketing team couldn¡¯t clear this up, they might as well all resign.


    As Sheng Quan had expected, netizens searching for Jin Jiu were bombarded with old accusations¡ª**¡°can¡¯t sing,¡± ¡°scammed fans with a concert,¡±** and the like.


    But here was the thing: *the entire internet had just heard Jin Jiu sing.*


    Even those who missed the live broadcast could find clips circulating online.


    *How was that voice anything less than amazing?*


    Sure, Jin Jiu had only sung for twenty seconds¡ªbut those twenty seconds were enough to prove his talent.


    Modern audiences weren¡¯t easily fooled. Some long-time entertainment industry fans even knew more about behind-the-scenes operations than rookies in the business. The old tricks didn¡¯t work anymore.


    Back in the day, fans rarely dug into which company a star was signed to or who their boss was. Now, the first thing people asked was: **Which company was Jin Jiu with before?**


    The moment the marketing firm¡¯s name surfaced, everything clicked.


    **[Ohhh, that shady company? It went under two years ago.]**


    **[I¡¯ve seen this name in scandals before¡ªthere are still at least ten posts exposing their dirt.]**


    **[Before seeing the company name: ¡®Jin Jiu scammed his fans? Is Sheng Quan making a mistake?¡¯ After seeing it: ¡®Ah, another victim of corporate exploitation.¡¯]**


    **[Called it. Sheng Quan first invested in films because of Qin Heng from *The Road of Life*¡ªand Qin Heng is known for his integrity. No way she¡¯d support someone with a bad reputation.]**


    **[Plus, she definitely has insider info we don¡¯t.]**


    **[Okay, but let¡¯s not act like rich = always right. Just because Sheng Quan¡¯s loaded doesn¡¯t mean everyone she likes is a saint.]**


    **[Nah, we¡¯re just saying¡ªat her level of wealth, she doesn¡¯t *have* to tolerate anyone she dislikes!]**


    **[LMAO someone lip-read Sheng Quan asking staff why she couldn¡¯t top up more, and they said the limit was 100,000 per transaction.]**


    **[No wonder she only voted 100,000!]**


    **[Our max is 100k because that¡¯s all we can afford. Hers is 100k because that¡¯s the show¡¯s cap!]**


    **[Legend.]**


    **[Check Weibo! Sheng Quan just posted!]**


    Sheng Quan¡¯s first Weibo post went up at midnight. Despite her claims of prioritizing beauty sleep, she uploaded a grainy, almost antique-looking video with the caption:


    **"I regret not knowing you back then. But I¡¯m grateful it¡¯s not too late now."**


    After posting, she set her phone down and smiled at the crescent moon in the sky.


    This message wasn¡¯t for the internet¡ªit was for Jin Jiu.


    The moment Jin Jiu sang those twenty seconds, she knew everything had changed.


    In the vast darkness where Jin Jiu had silently drifted, all he needed was the faintest glimmer of light¡ªeven just a single beam.


    **¡°Not just a beam¡ªI want a whole flood of it. Yes, arrange a big bouquet for Jin Jiu¡¯s room. And make sure the card I gave you is placed properly. Thanks!¡±**


    As she applied her skincare, Sheng Quan asked over the phone, **¡°But isn¡¯t the show supposed to be closed-door training? Will you get in trouble for delivering flowers? If the director says anything, just tell them I asked you to. They probably won¡¯t mind.¡±**


    On the other end, the staff member assigned to accompany Sheng Quan by Strawberry TV glanced at the people beside her.


    **¡°Uh... I don¡¯t think... they¡¯ll complain.¡±**


    As soon as the call ended, the station director and the chief producer sprang into action:


    **¡°You heard her¡ªflowers! Big ones! Go buy¡ªno, wait, you¡¯ll pick wilted ones. I¡¯ll go myself!¡±**


    In the end, the chief producer personally bought the bouquet, and the station director placed it on the dormitory table himself, even spritzing it with ¡°dew¡± for effect.


    After several adjustments to ensure the best camera angle, he finally stepped back, satisfied.


    ¡°Remember, you must capture Jin Jiu¡¯s reaction when he sees this bouquet. For post-production, I¡¯ll need to talk to the team about adding subtitles. When it¡¯s edited, the audience has to know this was sent by Chairman Sheng.¡±


    A crowd of people swarmed in, then swarmed back out just as quickly.


    A moment later, Jin Jiu pushed the door open and stepped inside, followed by an excitedly chattering An Baixing:


    ¡°Oh my god! I still can¡¯t believe Chairman Sheng actually came for you. I knew it¡ªwith a voice like yours, it had to be for you... Wait, where did these flowers come from?¡±


    He rushed forward in delight, but Jin Jiu¡¯s face instantly paled.


    A chill ran through Jin Jiu¡¯s body, as if those words were flashing before his eyes again:


    ¡ª*I regret ever loving you.*


    ¡°There¡¯s a card too! Wow, it¡¯s addressed to you, Jin Jiu! Come on, open it¡ªit must be from a fan! These flowers are gorgeous, look, there¡¯s still dew on them!¡±


    An Baixing pulled Jin Jiu to the table.


    His hands trembled faintly, the voice inside him screaming, *Run. Get away.* But then his mind flickered with the memory of Sheng Quan¡¯s bright, shimmering gaze fixed on him.


    In the end, he opened the card.


    Neat, elegant handwriting greeted him:


    ¡ª*Jin Jiu, I¡¯m so happy I get to love you.*

 Chapter 23

    No one but Jin Jiu himself could understand the emotions that surged through him upon reading those words.


    An Baixing, however, did catch sight of a single tear falling amidst the beautiful bouquet.


    The gentle blossoms cradled Jin Jiu¡¯s tear.


    Startled, An Baixing exclaimed, ¡°Do you love these flowers that much?¡±


    To be moved to tears¡ªjust how touched must he be?


    ¡°Mm.¡± Jin Jiu gently placed the greeting card against his chest, right where his heart lay. ¡°I love them.¡±


    So much that it felt as if his entire being might melt away.


    He could feel the tiny flutters of joy pulsating in his heart.


    Like a little mushroom that had waited forever for a single ray of sunlight, cautiously tucking it beneath its cap once assured no one would snatch it away¡ªand that the light wouldn¡¯t vanish.


    With tender, fragile hope, he thought: *This one sentence is enough.*


    If even just one person cherished his singing, that would be more than enough.


    ***


    ¡°How can it just be me?¡± Sheng Quan was sharing her thoughts with Yu Xiangwan. ¡°Jin Jiu was born for glory. The greater the glory, the brighter his talent shines.¡±


    Yu Xiangwan glanced at the computer on the desk. ¡°Don¡¯t worry, you won¡¯t be his only fan during the preliminary rounds.¡±


    ¡°The incident from seven years ago has mostly been pieced together.¡±


    One had to admit, netizens these days were truly extraordinary. Most of the time, they might seem like lazy slackers, but when it came to uncovering drama, they transformed into eagle-eyed detectives, leaving no stone unturned.


    Of course, they couldn¡¯t do it alone¡ªmuch of the truth had been buried.


    That was where the marketing team stepped in.


    Though Starlight Entertainment was still young, under Gu Zhao¡¯s exacting standards, every department brimmed with talent.


    Despite the company¡¯s relaxed atmosphere, slacking off was practically unheard of. In fact, everyone worked harder than ever.


    After all, Starlight didn¡¯t micromanage. As long as assigned tasks were completed, employees were free to indulge in the beautifully crafted desserts in the breakroom or hit the company gym.


    There was even an unspoken rule: finish early, leave early.


    Paid holidays were fully honored, promotions came naturally with good work, and since Chairman Sheng had a habit of treating employees to food and drinks, management followed suit¡ªfree coffee was a regular perk.


    Other departments aside, the marketing team had quickly become fiercely loyal to Starlight, itching to prove their worth.


    Now, finally given the chance, the marketing head stayed up all night refining their strategy, waking repeatedly to tweak details.


    The entire team threw themselves into the task. Even if Jin Jiu hadn¡¯t been innocent¡ªthough he absolutely was¡ª*ahem*, Chairman Sheng had repeatedly emphasized: no malicious or false marketing.


    ¡ªA rule that might sound laughable in the entertainment industry, but Starlight¡¯s marketing team embraced it wholeheartedly.


    In fact, they were so energized they happily pulled an all-nighter, glued to their screens.


    They weren¡¯t the only ones burning the midnight oil¡ªcountless gossip enthusiasts were equally sleepless.


    Overnight, one explosive revelation after another surfaced, all verified.


    **[So Jin Jiu was forced to perform for that exploitative boss before his throat even fully healed? He was only sixteen!! That¡¯s child labor!! Can¡¯t he sue?!!!]**


    **[It¡¯s only been seven years, but the industry back then was even messier than now. Exploiting young stars was rampant¡ªremember all those child stars treated as cash cows? Wait, didn¡¯t Jin Jiu¡¯s parents divorce?]**


    **[They did, and both remarried. But they weren¡¯t that terrible. Check this old news photo (image.jpg)¡ªthat¡¯s his parents shielding him from paparazzi.]**


    **[HOLY CRAP!! BIG BREAKING NEWS!! I just dug up an old article about Zhou Xie, the singer who competed against Jin Jiu in ¡°Love Song Newcomer King¡± back then¡ªHE GOT ARRESTED!!


    The headline says: ¡°Zhou Xie Detained for Intentional Poisoning¡ªVictim Allegedly Angel-Voiced Jin Jiu.¡± Jin Jiu¡¯s throat wasn¡¯t damaged by illness¡ªHE WAS POISONED?!]**


    **[NO WAY!!! If this is true... his voice was ruined on purpose?!!!]**


    **[I¡¯m wide awake now. SLEEP IS FOR THE WEAK!!!]**


    Sleep? Ha! Adrenaline was all the rest they needed! Another hour of digging wouldn¡¯t hurt¡ªthey could still clock seven hours. Wait, two more hours? Fine, six was plenty. Or... five would do!


    While these gossip hunters buzzed with dark-circled excitement, their prime target, Zhou Xie, was also awake.


    But unlike them, he wasn¡¯t sleepless from thrill¡ªhe was paralyzed with fear.


    Zhou Xie wasn¡¯t some nobody; his connections had allowed him to resume his singing career seamlessly after prison.


    The entertainment industry had a short memory. Seven years later, Jin Jiu was forgotten, while Zhou Xie had climbed to modest fame.


    His three-year sentence had taught him regret¡ªmostly about not being more careful. He¡¯d never expected Jin Jiu to go to the police, let alone get caught.


    He¡¯d moved on¡ªuntil Jin Jiu reappeared, singing again, his voice miraculously restored despite doctors declaring it irreversible.


    And worst of all? Sheng Quan was Jin Jiu¡¯s fan.


    Zhou Xie had nearly choked in disbelief when he heard.


    The Jin Jiu of today was a shadow of his former self¡ªlong hair obscuring his eyes, pallid skin, radiating gloom. Where was the dazzling prodigy from back then?


    Sure, Jin Jiu had once shone like the brightest star, but that star had long since crashed and burned.


    Yet here was Sheng Quan, lighting up his name on her fan sign, hoisting him back into the spotlight overnight.


    *Who even is this woman? Why him? With all her wealth, why fixate on a has-been like Jin Jiu?*


    Terror gripped Zhou Xie. As netizens turned their scrutiny toward him, he could barely breathe, immediately calling his uncle¡ªthe influential shareholder who¡¯d shielded him before.


    In Zhou Xie¡¯s eyes, his uncle was untouchable, a kingmaker in the industry. But the phone call shattered that illusion:


    ¡°If I were truly all-powerful, you¡¯d never have gone to prison in the first place!¡±


    ¡°You think I¡¯m some kind of all-powerful figure? I¡¯ve told you before¡ªdo whatever you want, just don¡¯t break the law. When you got arrested last time, I spent a fortune bribing those newspapers to keep quiet. That trick worked back then, but now?


    We¡¯re in the age of big data and the internet. There are countless media outlets, countless netizens¡ªmillions, even billions of people. Do you really think I can bribe them all?¡±


    Zhou Xie¡¯s uncle was utterly exasperated. His focus had long shifted away from his nephew to a more pressing concern:


    ¡°We have no idea what kind of background Sheng Quan has. If she¡¯s targeting us because of that Jin Jiu, we¡¯re in serious trouble.¡±


    Zhou Xie didn¡¯t understand. ¡°Isn¡¯t she just some rich second-generation heiress? And I heard she just came back from abroad. Uncle, you¡¯ve been established in China for years¡ªhow can you be scared of some newcomer?¡±


    Zhou Yangqiang nearly laughed in frustration. ¡°How did my brother end up with such an idiot for a son?! She¡¯s not just any second-generation heir! ¡®Just came back¡¯? She¡¯s only been back a short while and she already bought an entire building¡ªa prime property in downtown Shanghai! Do you have any idea what it means that she acquired Huaxing Building? It means she has at least ten billion in liquid assets!¡±


    ¡°Ten billion!! There are barely any individuals with assets that high, let alone ten billion in cash. Even if we sold everything we own, we wouldn¡¯t come close to that amount! At her level of wealth, she doesn¡¯t even need to say a word¡ªjust a hint of displeasure, and there¡¯ll be a line of people eager to take us down for her!¡±


    Zhou Yangqiang massaged his temples, looking as though he¡¯d aged ten years. From the moment he¡¯d learned about this, the thought of opposing Sheng Quan had never even crossed his mind.


    It was simply impossible.


    If Sheng Quan really wanted to crush them, it would be laughably easy.


    Forget everything else¡ªGu Zhao alone was enough to give him a massive headache.


    Just like how Jin Jiu had once been powerless against them¡ªa sixteen-year-old boy, no matter how hard he fought back, was easily subdued.


    Now, the tables had turned.


    The phrase ¡°the weather¡¯s turning cold, time for the Wang family to fall¡± wasn¡¯t an exaggeration. Especially for a company like theirs, riddled with fatal flaws. If someone with power decided to target them, bankruptcy would be the least of their worries.


    Zhou Yangqiang¡¯s desperate struggle only led him to one last resort¡ªhe managed to get Gu Zhao¡¯s number and called, hoping to buy his way to safety by begging for a few good words in front of Sheng Quan.


    When the call came, Gu Zhao was working.


    His current task? Compiling information on the company controlled by Zhou Yangqiang. To be honest, most firms like Sunrise Entertainment in the entertainment industry couldn¡¯t withstand scrutiny.


    As the saying goes, if they were willing to cover up Zhou Xie¡¯s poisoning of Jin Jiu, they¡¯d definitely done other shady things too. Based on Gu Zhao¡¯s experience, digging up a few past incidents would be enough to land some of them behind bars.


    And where did that experience come from? Well, one might have to ask his two former business partners about that.


    Something this minor didn¡¯t usually require Gu Zhao¡¯s personal attention¡ªhe could¡¯ve delegated it easily. But he could tell Sheng Quan despised this company, so President Gu took it upon himself to handle the matter.


    Faced with Zhou Yangqiang¡¯s polite plea, Gu Zhao responded with equal courtesy:


    ¡°Chairman Zhou, I understand your concerns. However, Chairman Sheng is quite fond of Jin Jiu. I believe she¡¯d be very pleased if Sunrise Entertainment were to... cease operations.¡±


    Sunrise Entertainment was the company Zhou Yangqiang had poured his heart and soul into. To elevate it, he¡¯d taken out loans, exploited artists, forced them into transactional relationships, and crushed every competitor in his path¡ªall to build it into what it was today.


    And now, in Gu Zhao¡¯s words, it had been reduced to nothing more than a tool to amuse Sheng Quan.


    There was no way Zhou Yangqiang could accept that. Suppressing his rage, he tried to negotiate:


    ¡°It¡¯s just some minor singer! Sunrise is an established company. Are you really going to target us over one insignificant artist?¡±


    ¡°Allow me to correct you,¡± Gu Zhao said politely. ¡°It¡¯s not ¡®targeting.¡¯ It¡¯s ensuring you disappear from Chairman Sheng¡¯s sight.¡±


    ¡°And it won¡¯t even be difficult.¡± He flipped through the printed documents in front of him. ¡°Tax evasion, excessive loans, suspected money laundering, coercing artists into sexual favors... not to mention the impending negative publicity. Honestly, even if we don¡¯t lift a finger, you won¡¯t last much longer.¡±


    ¡°But I will take action. After all, this is my first performance since joining the company. I¡¯d like to make a good impression.¡±


    Zhou Yangqiang trembled with fury. He refused to give up:


    ¡°Is there really no room for negotiation? Your chairman is young¡ªbut you¡¯re not. Targeting an entire company over some singer? She¡¯s inexperienced, blinded by his looks! Instead of advising her, you¡¯re enabling this?


    We¡¯re a longstanding company. If you go easy on us this once, we can discuss collaboration. Think carefully.¡±


    Gu Zhao did think carefully¡ªfor about two seconds¡ªbefore concluding:


    ¡°My apologies. But compared to any potential collaboration with Sunrise, Chairman Sheng¡¯s preferences and my performance evaluation carry far more weight.¡±


    ¡°If you¡¯re truly attached to your company, I suggest taking a photo now for nostalgia¡¯s sake.¡± He glanced at his watch. ¡°Our conversation time is up. Goodbye.¡±


    After hanging up, Gu Zhao promptly blocked Zhou Yangqiang¡¯s number and returned to his diligent work.


    Of course, dismantling Sunrise wasn¡¯t purely about vengeance. Gu Zhao already had his eye on at least three of their artists. The collapse of a company always created new opportunities, and he was more than happy to let Starlight Entertainment absorb them.


    After another hour of work, Gu Zhao took a break to stretch, ran for half an hour on the treadmill, then resumed his tasks.


    At six, dinner arrived¡ªa private chef arrangement set up by Sheng Quan. Since the company didn¡¯t yet have a cafeteria, she¡¯d arranged for three meals a day to be delivered punctually.


    Reluctantly setting aside his work, Gu Zhao spent thirty minutes eating before immediately diving back in.


    By 8:30 PM, having exceeded his work quota, he finally left his desk, satisfied.


    As usual, he called Sheng Quan to ask when she¡¯d return to the company.


    Sheng Quan was currently soaking in a hot spring with Ming Qi.


    The relaxed Chairman Sheng replied lazily, ¡°I¡¯ll be staying to watch Jin Jiu¡¯s semifinals and finals. You¡¯ll have to hold down the fort for the next couple of weeks.¡±


    ¡°Understood. I hope you enjoy your trip.¡±


    Gu Zhao was slightly disappointed that Sheng Quan wouldn¡¯t be returning for two weeks.


    Truthfully, he didn¡¯t care much about Jin Jiu¡ªor anything outside of work, for that matter.


    But today, he opened his phone, searched Jin Jiu¡¯s name, and stared at the image of the pale, long-haired young man with his eyes half-hidden.


    He pondered for exactly three seconds.


    That day, Secretary Zhang, who had been nothing but cheerful since joining Starlight Entertainment as the CEO''s personal secretary, finally faced his first professional challenge.


    His aloof, workaholic boss¡ªwho usually had eyes only for spreadsheets and deadlines¡ªnot only kept him working late until 8:30 PM, but also, just as he was tidying up the files, caught him off guard with a sudden question.


    With that coldly beautiful face, the CEO asked:


    ¡°What do you think if I grew my hair out?¡±


    ¡°Long enough to cover my eyes.¡±

 Chapter 24

    Gu Zhao ultimately abandoned his plan to grow out his hair.


    Secretary Zhang credited himself for the successful persuasion¡ªafter all, they had worked together for some time now. Though he couldn¡¯t fathom why the CEO had such a "rebellious" idea in the first place, invoking the argument that "long hair obstructing vision would affect work efficiency" had swiftly resolved the matter.


    Of course, he would never know the real reason Gu Zhao changed his mind: the revival competition of *Voice of You* had begun.


    Jin Jiu had changed his hairstyle.


    When he told the makeup artist, "I want to cut my hair and try a new look," she was so moved she nearly teared up¡ªthen promptly snipped off his long locks without hesitation.


    She¡¯d been itching to do it for ages!


    Sure, some celebrities rocked long hair beautifully, adding an ethereal charm to their presence.


    But no one wore it quite like Jin Jiu. Others had stylish bangs; his was more like a heavy curtain, hanging so low it nearly covered his chin. In all her years in the makeup industry, she¡¯d never been so desperate to give someone a haircut.


    The makeup artist was a professional. Snip, snip¡ªand when Jin Jiu¡¯s delicate features were finally unveiled, An Baixing, standing nearby, gasped:


    "Holy crap! Dude, you¡¯re *this* good-looking?!"


    Jin Jiu was indeed strikingly handsome. Even as a singer who didn¡¯t rely on his looks, his pale complexion couldn¡¯t diminish the sheer impact of his features, which were arresting enough to make anyone blurt out an expletive.


    His eyes, though still dull and lifeless, stood out the most¡ªpaired with his sharp nose, he looked like a fragile, newly born creature, still damp and vulnerable.


    As An Baixing enthusiastically put it:


    "You¡¯re *too* good-looking! You could totally pass as a porcelain-doll beauty, damn it. God, I can¡¯t believe someone this gorgeous is my friend¡ªI must be legendary or something!"


    The makeup artist was instantly fired up. After a quick glance, she whipped out her tools with glee:


    "I knew it! Your bone structure is *perfect* for the stage. Just wait¡ªI¡¯ll give you a show-stopping makeover. You¡¯ll be the brightest star out there!"


    Jin Jiu hadn¡¯t properly looked at his own face in seven years.


    He¡¯d been called pretty since childhood. At sixteen, besides being hailed as the "Voice of an Angel," his androgynous, delicate features had also earned him the title of "Angel¡¯s Visage."


    But after *those* incidents, the once-endless praises turned into disgusted murmurs.


    He grew afraid of being seen, terrified his face might repulse others. The compliments from An Baixing and the makeup artist made him hesitantly lift his gaze toward the mirror.


    The reflection felt unfamiliar, different from what he remembered.


    In Jin Jiu¡¯s eyes, he wasn¡¯t vibrant or likable¡ªjust pallid and withered. Even when he tried to force a smile, it came out stiff and unnatural.


    Would *she* like someone as gloomy and unappealing as him?


    His head drooped dejectedly, but before it could fully bow, the makeup artist caught his chin, her eyes sparkling with excitement:


    "Don¡¯t move! I¡¯m giving you a ¡®Vampire Duke¡¯ stage look¡ªyes, just like that! Bare your teeth a little... perfect, perfect! Adorably fierce. Here, let me glue on some fangs. Don¡¯t worry, they won¡¯t mess with your singing."


    Jin Jiu, who had actually been practicing his smile: "..."


    While the closed-off program crew maintained an eerie calm, chaos reigned outside.


    In just a week, the truth about what happened seven years ago had been overturned, re-overturned, and overturned again.


    As Sheng Quan had predicted, the facts were always there¡ªit just depended on whether people cared to dig.


    First came skepticism, then investigations. Rumors¡ªsome true, some false¡ªflooded the internet under the guise of "I heard." Eventually, both sides brought out their evidence, and the dust finally settled.


    When it was all over, the battle¡ªa mix of fresh gossip and old grudges¡ªentered its final phase: the recap.


    The recappers mainly consisted of the victorious side or neutral third parties who¡¯d stayed out of the fray, mostly influencers and video content creators.


    "Riding the Little Donkey" was one such recapper. Ever since the book-fan group chat screenshots skyrocketed his following, he¡¯d become a staunch Sheng Quan loyalist, charging to the front lines in every Sheng Quan-related drama.


    He¡¯d been there for the book-fan leaks, meticulously compiled evidence when Huaxing Building was rumored to be under Sheng Quan¡¯s ownership, and even paid a hefty sum to buy his way into the book-fan group¡ªjust so he could screenshot and hype Sheng Quan¡¯s appearances the second she surfaced.


    In short: he dove headfirst into every controversy and, when things were quiet, dissected every Sheng Quan-related tidbit.


    From daily updates on the *Path of Life* film crew to Yan Hui¡¯s career milestones, Xing Mang¡¯s hiring sprees, speculations about who they¡¯d poached next, calculations of Huaxing Building¡¯s annual rental income, debates over whether Xing Mang *actually* prioritized looks in recruitment¡ªeven CEO Gu Zhao himself became a recurring subject of his deep dives.


    There are many influential figures like "Riding a Little Donkey" who are eager to jump on every trend, even something as trivial as "Sheng Quan yawning." These individuals have played a significant role in helping Sheng Quan gain her current fame and fanbase in just over a month.


    Even netizens who missed the earlier major events would, after repeatedly seeing posts about Sheng Quan from these influencers, subconsciously form the impression that "she''s a celebrity," even if they didn¡¯t know her beforehand.


    Of course, this relationship is mutually beneficial. These accounts have also attracted a large number of fans interested in Sheng Quan. They fuel the hype around her, and in turn, Sheng Quan¡¯s popularity boosts their own reach.


    In this positive feedback loop, they naturally position themselves on the frontlines of "protecting Sheng Quan," because safeguarding her means safeguarding the traffic that sustains them.


    Sheng Quan is well aware of this. For instance, while her main account appears aloof and follows no one, her alt account keeps close tabs on the activities of this "Sheng Quan Protection Squad."


    Lately, however, she¡¯s been a bit busy. It wasn¡¯t until a full day after "Riding a Little Donkey" posted their summary that she finally came across it.


    **[Summary of the Jin Jiu Incident:**


    1. Seven years ago, Jin Jiu was the most promising newcomer of his season in "Love Song Newcomer King," hailed by the media as having the "Voice of an Angel" (I scoured the internet to find a few audio clips with damaged quality¡ªlinked below. Even though the audio has degraded after countless transfers, you can still tell it truly deserves the title).


    2. In May, just before the competition, Jin Jiu suddenly vanished. He reappeared in mid-August, only to be embroiled in the "Concert Scam Cheating Fans Incident" (Figures 1 and 2 are compilations of newspaper clippings from that time). By then, Jin Jiu could no longer sing with his angelic voice; media reports described it as hoarse and unpleasant, leading to a massive wave of fans turning against him.


    3. Important note: Not a single cent from the concert tickets went to Jin Jiu. He had refused to perform but was forced onstage. At the time, he wasn¡¯t even sixteen yet¡ªjust graduated from middle school. Multiple reports also highlighted his severe overwork (Figure 4 shows a blurry photo of Jin Jiu from then, where he¡¯s practically skin and bones).


    4. In late October, media reported Jin Jiu being rushed to the hospital covered in blood, suspected of attempting suicide (see Figure 4 for the scene photo). Though blurry, the side profile confirms it¡¯s him. After analysis by experts, it¡¯s believed he chose the slowest, most agonizing method: cutting his wrists in a bathtub of warm water (an eyewitness, "Melon [screenname]," who worked at the hospital, saw Jin Jiu being wheeled into emergency care).


    5. In early November, Jin Jiu terminated his contract with the exploitative company (after relentless digging by netizens, former employees "Life¡¯s Hard, Sigh [screenname]" and "Jasmine [screenname]" confirmed their identities and testified that after Jin Jiu¡¯s suicide attempt, he stormed into the boss¡¯s office with a knife and stabbed himself. Terrified, the unscrupulous boss Rong Chang immediately agreed to release him).


    6. After the contract termination, Jin Jiu seemed to disappear from the public eye. But thanks to eagle-eyed sleuths, his trajectory over the past seven years has been pieced together: He first returned to school for tenth grade but was expelled due to severe self-harm tendencies (so far, two classmates and thirteen schoolmates have corroborated this).


    Afterward, he drifted between odd jobs and medical treatment. Testimonies have surfaced from former colleagues at a fried chicken shop, a courier station, a restaurant, an auto repair shop, a delivery service, and more.


    Their memories align: Jin Jiu was quiet, kept to himself, always hiding his face. Most coworkers never even saw what he looked like. But they all mentioned he loved singing¡ªalways humming to himself in secret. Some jokingly asked him to sing for them, but he¡¯d clam up completely.


    7. Four years after the contract termination, Jin Jiu began auditioning for singing competitions. Why did no one notice? Because he was eliminated in either the preliminaries or early rounds. I¡¯ve compiled the footage dug up by dedicated netizens¡ªeighty-five clips in total. Every single time, the reason for elimination was the same: he couldn¡¯t sing a single word.


    The most recent clip was from last month¡ªanother silent elimination. The link is below. It¡¯s clear he was nervous, because in *The Voice Has You*, though he stayed silent for forty seconds, he managed to sing eight lines in the last twenty. This suggests it¡¯s not that he *can¡¯t* sing, but that performing onstage triggers deep psychological trauma.


    7. Over the course of three years, there were a staggering eighty-five documented instances of him signing up for singing competitions¡ªvideo evidence exists for each one. This clearly shows that Jin Jiu was desperately trying to overcome his stage fright, which rendered him voiceless whenever he stepped into the spotlight. As for the root of this trauma, check the third link. It leads to footage of his final concert, widely believed to be the final straw that drove him to suicide. The atmosphere was so suffocatingly oppressive that I couldn¡¯t even finish watching it. Feel free to challenge yourself if you dare.


    That¡¯s the gist of the Jin Jiu incident. Even someone like me, who never follows celebrities and only lives for the gossip, has to say: it¡¯s tragic. Heartbreakingly, horrifyingly tragic. This is just a rough summary¡ªfor more details, you can search online. If you spot any discrepancies, feel free to comment and correct me.]


    Sheng Quan thought she knew Jin Jiu¡¯s past inside out, but as netizens dug deeper, she realized the reality was a hundred times crueler than the book had portrayed.


    This was now a real world, and Jin Jiu had left traces everywhere¡ªclassmates who witnessed his dropout, doctors who once treated him, coworkers from his part-time jobs, even people who¡¯d crossed paths with him at training classes.


    To them, he was just a fleeting presence in their lives. But once Sheng Quan propelled Jin Jiu back into the public eye, these witnesses emerged, piecing together his story from fragments of memory.


    The book never mentioned that he dropped out due to severe self-harm, nor did it describe how he worked himself to exhaustion just to afford lessons and treatment. It certainly didn¡¯t mention how he was forcibly pushed onstage to face disappointed fans.


    The book noted his relentless participation in singing competitions but never specified the number. Now, with video proof of eighty-five appearances, it meant Jin Jiu had subjected himself to this torment at least eighty-five times in his quest for redemption.


    Eighty-five times standing onstage, eighty-five times confronting his darkest memories, eighty-five times choking on silence and hating himself for it.


    This was just the seventh year. In the thirty years the book spanned, how many more times had he endured this?


    But it didn¡¯t end there. While the blogger had summarized the major incidents, the comments section revealed even more horrors.


    [You missed something, OP. Jin Jiu wasn¡¯t just poisoned¡ªafter that, his throat was slit. It happened during an argument with Zhou Xie after he reported the poisoning. An old newspaper photo shows Jin Jiu with bandages around his neck. The wound wasn¡¯t deep enough to damage his vocal cords, but still... it was a slit throat.]


    [WTF?! Poisoned AND his throat cut? He was only sixteen at the time!!!]


    [I can¡¯t stop crying, it¡¯s so devastating. Especially watching those competition clips where he stands frozen, trembling... I just burst into tears.]


    [I was that coworker at the fried chicken shop. I used to tease him to sing, and when he couldn¡¯t, I thought it was funny. Now... I¡¯m a monster. A MONSTER!!]


    [Great summary, OP. I couldn¡¯t shake off the video for days. Despite his trauma, despite shaking to his fingertips¡ªwhen he saw someone supporting him, he still sang.]


    [I¡¯d heard his name before but never looked into it... If I could time-travel, I¡¯d go to that cursed concert and hold up a lightstick for him. Let him know someone was rooting for him!!]


    [So THIS is what Sheng Quan meant when she said she wished she¡¯d known Jin Jiu back then. She¡¯s in the industry¡ªshe must¡¯ve known the truth. Of course my Queen Sheng has impeccable taste.]


    [Does anyone else keep rewatching that ¡°Sing with You¡± clip where Sheng Quan raises the lightstick? The look on Jin Jiu¡¯s face¡ªpure disbelief¡ªwrecks me every time.]


    [His voice is so beautiful. Even now, after his vocal cords were ruined, it¡¯s still breathtaking.]


    [I can¡¯t imagine how hard he worked to sound like this after such damage.]


    [That Zhou Xie is pure evil!! Three years in prison? He should rot there for LIFE.]


    [Isn¡¯t his family¡¯s company collapsing? Recent news says his uncle got arrested too.]


    [Poor baby. I just want to hug Jin Jiu and never let go.]


    A knock at the door interrupted her thoughts. ¡°President Sheng, we need to leave for the show!¡± Ming Qi called.


    Sheng Quan opened the door, and Ming Qi immediately looped an arm through hers. ¡°They said tickets for the live audience in the semifinals are selling out. Didn¡¯t the crew reserve some for you? Who¡¯d you give them to?¡±


    ¡°I sold them.¡±


    ¡°Sold them?¡± Ming Qi blinked. ¡°Aren¡¯t you arranging any... fans for Jin Jiu?¡±


    She meant the industry-standard ¡°professional audience members¡±¡ªpaid actors who pretended to be die-hard fans, a common tactic to boost a less-popular star¡¯s image.


    ¡°No need.¡± Sheng Quan glanced at her phone, then snapped it shut with a smile.


    ¡°He already has real ones.¡±


    The semifinals venue.


    When Jin Jiu appeared on stage, the barrage of live comments erupted in astonishment.


    ¡¾Is that Jin Jiu?!!!¡¿


    ¡¾Where did this handsome guy come from?! Give me back the brooding long-haired man!!¡¿


    ¡¾Holy crap, he¡¯s so hot, so hot, so hot!¡¿


    ¡¾Help! I thought those reports from seven years ago calling him an angel were exaggerations!¡¿


    ¡¾Ahhhh he looked at the camera! Cameraman, why are you shaking? Cut the shot back to him right now!¡¿


    ¡¾Those eyes! Those eyes!! I¡¯m dead!!!¡¿


    Jin Jiu truly looked reborn. As he stood beneath the stage lights and lifted his gaze, it was as if all the light in the world had gathered upon him.


    Yet his eyes were fixed only on Sheng Quan.


    When he saw Sheng Quan smiling and applauding, an involuntary small smile tugged at his lips.


    The lights dimmed, and the entire audience¡¯s attention was riveted to Jin Jiu on stage.


    But he was no longer afraid of the dark, silent sea of spectators.


    Jin Jiu picked up the microphone, and as the accompaniment began, his voice¡ªhypnotic and mesmerizing¡ªrose gradually from a whisper to a soaring crescendo. This time, his performance was even better than the last.


    His gaze remained fixed on the audience below, like a mermaid who had just stepped ashore, pouring every ounce of emotion into his voice, using his song to lay bare his soul.


    He paid no attention to the admiration of the judges or the murmurs of praise backstage.


    As the song ended, Jin Jiu¡¯s chest rose and fell slightly with exertion, his eyes searching nervously for Sheng Quan, desperate for her approval.


    Sheng Quan smiled and raised a light sign bearing his name.


    Before Jin Jiu could even smile in response, two more signs flickered to life behind her, both flashing "Jin Jiu" in bright letters.


    At first, he didn¡¯t comprehend. Only when he heard someone in the audience shout his name did he freeze, stunned and uncertain, his eyes darting around in disbelief.


    ¡¾Jin Jiu, you¡¯ve got this!!!¡¿


    ¡¾? Jin Jiu ?¡¿


    ¡¾Jin Jiu is the best!!!¡¿


    ¡¾No one sings like Jin Jiu!!!¡¿


    He stood rigid, staring wide-eyed at the crowd below.


    Behind Sheng Quan, more and more light signs bearing Jin Jiu¡¯s name lit up one after another.


    They sparkled, connecting to form a tiny, shimmering galaxy just for him.

 Chapter 25

    **Voting in the Semifinals**


    Sheng Quan didn¡¯t cast a single vote, yet Jin Jiu¡¯s tally remained firmly at the top of the leaderboard.


    His story made it impossible not to root for him, his looks drew in legions of fans smitten by his visuals, and most importantly¡ªhis voice was ethereal, standing out like a dream amid the competition. Even those watching remotely through live broadcasts couldn¡¯t resist pouring their votes his way.


    Jin Jiu watched the numbers climb rapidly, his gaze sweeping over the sea of twinkling lights from the audience. His lips parted slightly, as if he wanted to say something, but in the end, all he did was bow deeply, the corners of his eyes reddening.


    That bow ignited the crowd¡¯s fervor. Fans raised their light boards higher, screaming his name with all their might.


    **"Go, Jin Jiu!"**


    **"Jin Jiu, you¡¯ve got this!!!"**


    The live chat exploded with similar cheers:


    **[Jin Jiu, fighting!]**


    **[Even my mom said he sounds amazing. Ugh, he should¡¯ve blown up seven years ago.]**


    **[Seriously, so good. Can¡¯t even imagine how stunning his voice was before his throat was injured.]**


    **[Seven years... seven whole years wasted.]**


    **[Keep going! We¡¯re here for your voice!]**


    Sheng Quan smiled as she watched Jin Jiu finally claim the recognition he¡¯d always deserved.


    Jin Jiu glanced her way again, his eyes shining¡ªno longer hollow but brimming with joy and excitement. There was a hint of disbelief in his gaze, a cautious hesitation, as if silently asking Sheng Quan: *Can I really have this?*


    *...Can I really be loved like this?*


    When their eyes met, Sheng Quan lifted her light board. Though her voice was lost in the roar of the crowd, her lips formed the words clearly enough:


    **"Jin Jiu, you¡¯ve got this!!!"**


    And then, the man on stage broke into a grin¡ªsmall, but bright enough to reveal a glimpse of sharp canines.


    That moment, surreal in its beauty, later became one of the most iconic images in the industry.


    ---


    **After the semifinals**, all contestants boarded a bus back to the training base for a week of preparation before the finals.


    Jin Jiu sat beside An Baixing, a glittering headband reading **"Go, Jin Jiu!"** perched atop his head¡ªsnagged from the stage after an overexcited fan had thrown it up. He¡¯d meant to just carry it, but An Baixing had insisted on putting it on him, and Jin Jiu hadn¡¯t resisted.


    From the moment they boarded, Jin Jiu kept sneaking touches to the headband, as if reassuring himself it was real.


    An Baixing, meanwhile, hadn¡¯t stopped talking since they¡¯d gotten on the bus. Even though Jin Jiu was the one who¡¯d taken first place, An Baixing acted like *he* was the winner, chattering nonstop:


    **"You have so many fans! Okay, sure, mine aren¡¯t as many as yours, but there were still at least twenty screaming my name when I sang. Guess our performances in the preliminaries really pulled in some attention, huh? After this show, we¡¯re gonna be *stars*!"**


    **"Man, once I¡¯m famous, I¡¯m holding concerts. Sing a few songs, then just vibe with the crowd. Oh! Hey, we should team up! You handle the vocals, I¡¯ll work the crowd. Unstoppable duo¡ªwait, huh?"**


    The self-proclaimed "little songbird of Sheng Quan" finally shut his mouth when he realized Jin Jiu had dozed off against his shoulder.


    Awake, Jin Jiu often came off as aloof¡ªAn Baixing had joked more than once that he was like a "shut-in mushroom." But asleep, with exhaustion softening his delicate, pale features and the faintest smile on his lips, An Baixing suddenly remembered: *This guy¡¯s only 23.*


    A year younger than *him*.


    The realization that he was technically the "older brother" here made An Baixing pause. Instead of shoving Jin Jiu away, he carefully draped his jacket over him, turning the sleeping singer into a "blanket-wrapped mushroom."


    Amused by his own metaphor, An Baixing leaned back, happily daydreaming about his future stardom¡ªuntil, still propped against Jin Jiu, he too drifted off.


    ---


    **Jin Jiu dreamed.**


    In the dream, he saw someone who looked like him... but also didn¡¯t.


    The man was at least fifty, his hair stark white, wrinkles carving deep lines into his face. Yet even aged, he carried a worn charm¡ªexcept for his eyes.


    Empty.


    Like a corpse puppeting its own body.


    **"Why?"** the man murmured, voice hollow. **"I got everything I wanted. So why am I still... not happy?"**


    The room was silent as a morgue. Tablets and bottles of medication covered the desk, a pharmacy¡¯s worth of psychiatric drugs. Jin Jiu recognized them; he took similar ones now, though his own treatment was going better thanks to his cooperation.


    The man sat motionless for a long moment before standing, grabbing pen and paper, and scribbling something down.


    He seemed used to talking to himself. Walking to the balcony, he peered down¡ªthen laughed, soft and broken.


    **"Good. At least here... I won¡¯t hit anyone. Won¡¯t be a burden."**


    He slowly climbed onto the railing, the height below seemingly inconsequential to him. Sitting atop it, he tilted his head back to gaze at the pitch-black sky and murmured to himself:


    "It''s so dark."


    The sound of the door being rammed echoed from outside, along with muffled shouts, but he could no longer hear them.


    Staring into the dark sky, he released his grip and fell backward.


    Jin Jiu desperately reached out to grab him but only saw the look of relief in the eyes of the falling figure.


    In that instant, time seemed to freeze.


    The falling man saw Jin Jiu.


    He seemed startled, his lips parting as if he wanted to ask something¡ªor perhaps, in that fleeting moment, he understood everything.


    The fan headband on Jin Jiu¡¯s head slipped off, and the falling man caught it, clutching it protectively against his chest.


    Holding the headband, he smiled, finally at peace.


    ¡ª**Thud!**


    The door burst open. A man with streaks of gray at his temples rushed in with security in tow, brushing past Jin Jiu before leaning desperately over the railing.


    ¡ª**"Jin Jiu!!!"**


    ¡ª**"Hurry! Call an ambulance!! Now!!"**


    Hearing his name, Jin Jiu froze. He stood there in a daze, staring at the man in his forties or fifties, puzzled by the familiarity of his features.


    "An... Baixing?"


    ¡ª**"Right here!!"**


    Jin Jiu slowly opened his eyes, untangling himself from his jacket, only to see An Baixing beside him, grinning smugly:


    "I *told* you my charm is irresistible. You were dreaming about me, even saying my name in your sleep! So? Did you dream I became a superstar? C¡¯mon, spill¡ªwhat did you see?"


    Jin Jiu wanted to tell him about the dream but found he could barely remember it.


    The only thing that came to mind was: "In the dream... we were friends?"


    **"WHAT?!!"**


    An Baixing nearly shredded his vocal cords:


    "What kind of nonsense is that?! Are we *not* friends now?! We share beds, fight side by side¡ª''a hundred years to cross the river together, a thousand to share a pillow''! *I* put this headband on you! And when your fang fell out, *I* glued it back on!!"


    After his rapid-fire rant, he magnanimously "forgave" Jin Jiu¡¯s slip-up:


    "Alright, I¡¯ll let it slide this time. Now, tell me¡ªare we friends or not?"


    Jin Jiu hadn¡¯t been close to anyone in a long time. Uncomfortable, he shrank deeper into his jacket, looking like a little mushroom again.


    His voice was soft but firm: "Yes."


    "Exactly! I *knew* no one could resist me." Satisfied, An Baixing slung an arm around Jin Jiu¡¯s shoulders. "From now on, you stick with me. Sure, you¡¯re in first place, but my votes aren¡¯t far behind. Who knows? Maybe I¡¯ll pull off an upset in the finals."


    An Baixing had every right to be confident. Even the show¡¯s director, Zhou Weigang, marveled at his luck.


    They¡¯d launched an obscure little talent show, only to reel in a big fish like Sheng Quan.


    The contestants, initially so unknown they¡¯d barely scraped together eighty participants, turned out to be full of surprises¡ªover a dozen showed real promise, with at least five standing out as exceptional.


    Jin Jiu was the undisputed top performer, but among the other four, only one had joined as a favor. The rest? Pure gold.


    An Baixing was one of them. He¡¯d coasted through the preliminaries but exploded during the show¡¯s intensive training¡ªthanks partly to the upgraded mentors after the program gained traction.


    Though only the live performances aired, the team was already planning post-show edits.


    This was the new norm in cutthroat entertainment: use live broadcasts to test the waters, then expand the recorded versions with behind-the-scenes footage¡ªtraining montages, rivalries, friendships, staged games for drama.


    *Sing With You*¡¯s budget had skyrocketed, yet no one at Strawberry TV complained.


    Its commercial value had far surpassed costs. After the preliminaries, advertisers flooded in; the semifinals brought even more deep-pocketed sponsors. By the finals? The frenzy would be unstoppable.


    But profits were secondary. What mattered was reviving the once-stagnant network.


    While many factors contributed to Strawberry TV¡¯s turnaround, even the station head admitted: **"We owe it all to Sheng Quan."**


    Currently, it seems like the benefits are overwhelmingly skewed in their favor, with Sheng Quan¡¯s biggest gain merely being the rise to fame of Jin Jiu.


    Perhaps she herself doesn¡¯t mind, but Strawberry TV takes it very seriously.


    In a partnership, how can only one side reap the rewards? Only when Sheng Quan also secures substantial benefits can the two parties logically remain tied to the same ship.


    As for nonsense like, "Well, we got our share, so who cares if she got hers?"¡ªuttering such words would only earn a furious scolding from the station head. Not only does Sheng Quan have the power to lift them up and the means to knock them down, but behaving this way would also deter future collaborators.


    With this clear understanding, it¡¯s no exaggeration to say that if Sheng Quan makes a request, the entire Strawberry TV would go all out to fulfill it.


    As a result, with the finals approaching, Zhou Weigang temporarily set aside all other tasks to focus on just one matter:


    "Has the submitted quota approval come through yet?"


    The staff member in charge of the application promptly replied:


    "It¡¯s been approved¡ªat the highest level."


    "That¡¯s good."


    Zhou Weigang breathed a sigh of relief. This had actually been their oversight. Earlier, because *Sing with You* was so unpopular, they hadn¡¯t applied for a high voting quota, fearing the broadcasting authority wouldn¡¯t approve it.


    His caution had been reasonable¡ªafter all, for a small, struggling talent show, requesting a high quota might raise suspicions of money laundering.


    But who could¡¯ve predicted this underdog program would skyrocket to fame overnight?


    The result was the now-viral joke: "Chairman Sheng wanted to vote but could only top up 100,000."


    Fortunately, netizens were treating it as a meme rather than blaming the production team for poor planning. Even Sheng Quan, though exasperated at the time, didn¡¯t give them a hard time¡ªshe simply asked them to secure the highest approval as soon as possible.


    Zhou Weigang wasn¡¯t worried about the approval. With *Sing with You*¡¯s soaring popularity and all voting proceeds going to charity, the broadcasting authority would be insane not to approve it.


    Beaming, he said to his friend, "Just the preliminary and semifinal rounds have already surpassed 20 million in total votes. By the finals, we could easily break 50 million."


    Not a penny of that money would end up in his pocket, but the success of this show guaranteed a bright future for him¡ªand, in fact, the entire production team.


    His friend was none other than Yu Hongdou, originally brought in to lend the show some star power.


    Yu Hongdou had her own fanbase and was only there as a favor to Zhou Weigang, using her influence to draw viewers. But fate had other plans¡ªthe struggling show suddenly became a sensation.


    Not only did she no longer need to help attract an audience, but she also ended up benefiting from the spotlight. With her genuine talent, two rounds of performances had earned her a flood of new fans, and now she, too, was glowing with excitement:


    "More than that. *Sing with You* has become *the* stage for visibility. Mark my words¡ªwhat we¡¯ve seen so far is just the warm-up. By the finals, plenty will be willing to spend big for fame."


    "True, this is a golden opportunity to shine," Zhou Weigang conceded. Their show¡¯s charitable angle had started as a unique feature, but now that it was a hit, the collision of popularity and philanthropy changed everything.


    Celebrity philanthropy was always a hot topic. While donations usually capped at a million or two, this stage was different.


    Yu Hongdou predicted, "Someone will definitely donate over 10 million."


    "It¡¯s not just about fame. A huge donation would make both the voter and the contestant the center of attention. Ma Wei¡¯s backers at Wansheng won¡¯t miss this chance."


    "By funneling major funds to Ma Wei, he¡¯d instantly shoot to the top of the rankings, gaining a surge in popularity, while the donor would steal the spotlight. A few well-placed media pieces, and it¡¯s a win-win."


    Zhou Weigang mentally reviewed the remaining contestants:


    "Then there¡¯s Geng Xiangqian. During the semifinals, he held up An Baixing¡¯s light board¡ªtrying to position himself as a ¡®senior stan.¡¯ The old man¡¯s pushing eighty but still knows how to chase clout."


    Unfortunately, An Baixing, his chosen "hype target," hadn¡¯t even noticed him. When it was his turn, An had cheerfully waved to the audience without the expected "humbled and tearful" reaction, leaving Geng Xiangqian¡¯s name barely mentioned.


    Zhou Weigang suspected the few posts about "Even Elder Geng loves An Baixing!" were bought bots.


    The more he thought about it, the more his head ached. "When the show was flopping, no one remembered our network. Now that it¡¯s a hit, everyone¡¯s crawling out of the woodwork."


    "If they steal Chairman Sheng''s spotlight, our station director will probably have a heart attack. Right now, he¡¯s dead set on currying favor with Chairman Sheng¡ªno, I mean, on securing a long-term, stable partnership."


    Yu Hongdou burst out laughing at her friend¡¯s bluntness. "You and your habit of always telling it like it is. But honestly, it¡¯s refreshing. Now that *Sing with You* is a hit, even if you never learn to sugarcoat things, you won¡¯t be sidelined again."


    She also hoped Sheng Quan wouldn¡¯t come out on the losing end. After all, Sheng Quan was the one who single-handedly propelled *Sing with You* to success, making her something of a benefactor:


    "Look on the bright side. Chairman Sheng owns Huaxing, so her liquidity must be solid. I¡¯ve never met her personally, but it¡¯s clear she knows what she¡¯s doing. She wouldn¡¯t let anyone else pluck the fruit from a tree she planted herself."


    Sheng Quan was indeed plucking fruit¡ªliterally.


    But it was at a countryside orchard, where she and Ming Qi were straining on tiptoe to reach the high-hanging ones, their faces lighting up with triumph whenever they succeeded.


    Yuan Zixin: "..."


    There were perfectly ripe, low-hanging fruits right beside them. He couldn¡¯t fathom why they insisted on making things difficult for themselves.


    "A little challenge makes it fun," Sheng Quan said, emerging from the orchard with Ming Qi. She took the documents Yuan Zixin handed her, skimmed through them, and signed with satisfaction. "Good. Let¡¯s proceed with this plan. Has *The Crane¡¯s Blooming Years* finalized its premiere date yet?"


    "Yes, next month. They¡¯re pushing for it before students go back to school, so they¡¯re cutting it close."


    "No worries. With Mr. Wang¡¯s shrewd oversight, nothing will go wrong." Sheng Quan accepted a tissue from the driver, wiped the peach in her hand, and took a crisp bite. "Mmm! Delicious."


    Yuan Zixin reported his latest findings: "Wansheng has assembled an analytics team specifically to predict how many votes you¡¯ll allocate during *Sing with You*¡¯s finals."


    "An analytics team?" Sheng Quan nearly laughed. "I¡¯ve heard of analysts for business negotiations, but never for charitable donations."


    In the entertainment industry, celebrities¡¯ donations usually followed a rough benchmark. If Wansheng really wanted to one-up her, their best bet would be to announce an astronomically high figure outright.


    But forming an analytics team? That reeked of a cheap tactic¡ªjust barely edging her out, like donating 32 million if she donated 30.


    She could understand wanting to ride her coattails for clout, but Wansheng wanted all the glory without paying the price. Since when did the world work that way?


    No wonder Gu Zhao always looked at Wansheng like it was "destined for bankruptcy."


    Yuan Zixin, however, thought Wansheng¡¯s stingy approach might actually work.


    "This team might actually nail your liquidity range. Should we prepare countermeasures?"


    "Don¡¯t bother. Let them play their games. I¡¯m curious to see what conclusions they¡¯ll draw."


    Sheng Quan wasn¡¯t being overconfident. She wasn¡¯t some greenhorn¡ªcompany assets and liquid cash were two entirely different things. If Wansheng had 100 million in liquidity, she¡¯d stand on her head and wash Gu Zhao¡¯s hair.


    Even if, by some miracle, they *did* have that much, they¡¯d never pour it all into charity.


    Especially since she had Gu Zhao, her "inside man" at Wansheng, who confirmed that even if the top brass dipped into personal funds, they¡¯d scrape together 40 million at most.


    Forty million was nothing to scoff at, but Sheng Quan had *100 million* ready to go.


    These would-be fruit thieves were only paving her path to victory.


    When she got into the car, she found a bag of freshly picked peaches waiting in the back seat.


    Yu Xiangwan wasn¡¯t around¡ªthis was her executive assistant¡¯s doing.


    Unlike the overworked company secretary, the assistant¡¯s role was simpler: manage documents, track schedules, arrange meetings, and... buy the peaches the chairman had praised earlier.


    Sheng Quan didn¡¯t *need* an assistant, but since Gu Zhao had sent one over, she might as well enjoy the convenience.


    After all, even with Gu Zhao as her all-capable CEO, she couldn¡¯t just laze around all day. Major corporate decisions and key document sign-offs still fell to her, and an assistant streamlined everything.


    Her time in Xinan hadn¡¯t been all leisure, either. After the orchard outing, she returned to her hotel and plunged straight into a sea of books:


    *Corporate Transformation and Management Innovation*


    *China¡¯s Talent Strategy*


    *Macroeconomics*


    Some were Mr. Wang¡¯s recommendations, others Gu Zhao¡¯s. Some were Chinese, others foreign¡ªaltogether, the stack was formidable.


    Xinan wasn¡¯t a bustling city, with limited entertainment options, which made it perfect for focused study.


    As that analytical genius from the preliminaries had rightly said:


    *A wealthy person¡¯s time is precious.*


    The show and other matters didn¡¯t require her attention¡ªher company¡¯s professional team naturally handled everything, analyzing the current situation for her. Her time was spent managing the company, indulging in leisure, and most importantly, improving herself.


    To be honest, reading was exhausting, especially books outside her field. For the first hour, Sheng Quan felt like banging her head against the wall in frustration. But after pushing through the first ninety minutes, she gradually found some enjoyment in it.


    006 couldn¡¯t understand why its host insisted on forcing herself to slog through every word when it was clearly so difficult for her.


    ¡¾As long as you keep completing tasks, you¡¯ll never run out of money.¡¿


    It boasted about its exceptional money-making skills.


    ¡¾I know,¡¿ Sheng Quan took another bite of a peach, as if hoping the fruit would somehow absorb the knowledge into her system. ¡¾But since you¡¯ve given me this wealth, I have to manage it properly.¡¿


    ¡¾Not just manage it¡ªI need to make it grow, then use that growth to generate even more. That process alone is meaningful.¡¿


    A business-minded person is never satisfied with the status quo.


    The key difference was, in the past, her hard work and studies only enriched her bosses. Now that she was the boss herself, her attitude toward learning had completely changed.


    After two and a half hours of reading, Sheng Quan set the book aside to stretch. Just then, her assistant knocked on the door:


    ¡°Chairwoman, your dance instructor has arrived.¡±


    While others were busy analyzing and speculating about how much money she could possibly spend, Sheng Quan happily spent an hour dancing.


    After her dance session, she took a half-hour break before jumping into a video conference.


    Once the meeting ended, she checked the time¡ª6 p.m. sharp. Dinner, followed by a relaxing bath while catching up on dramas and skincare. By 10 p.m., Chairwoman Sheng was nestled in her luxurious bed, drifting off into a peaceful sleep.


    Meanwhile, in faraway Shanghai, an analysis team that had been debating intensely all afternoon and late into the night finally reached a preliminary conclusion:


    ¡°At most, she can only spend 35 million.¡±


    In Xinan, on a hotel balcony, a once-popular but now slowly fading celebrity was on the phone:


    ¡°Two million. As long as it shifts the spotlight back to me, it¡¯ll be worth every penny.¡±


    In the hotel room next door, another call was being made:


    ¡°Sheng Quan didn¡¯t vote in the semifinals¡ªshe¡¯s probably saving it all for the finals. The audience is speculating how much she¡¯ll spend in the last round. From what I¡¯ve heard, at least three people are planning to compete with her. The showdown is going to be explosive!


    Don¡¯t worry, I paid top dollar for a prime seat. I¡¯ll capture Sheng Quan¡¯s entire voting process live. The total votes have already surpassed 20 million. If they go all out in the finals and push it past 100 million, this show will blow up! We¡¯ll be the first to break the news. Oh, and remember to reimburse me for the ticket...¡±


    In a room below hers, an influencer was anxiously analyzing the seating chart:


    ¡°From this angle, I can get Sheng Quan¡¯s side profile. That spot gives me a front view, but only for a second. And since we can¡¯t move around during the last five minutes of voting, what¡¯s the point of shooting her back? Fine, I¡¯ll stick to the side view.¡±


    That night, countless people lost sleep over her, and countless more had her on their minds.


    Yet the very subject of their obsession slept soundly.


    Sunlight filtered through the sheer curtains, gently rousing her awake.


    Sheng Quan slowly opened her eyes, sat up, and stretched.


    Early to bed, early to rise¡ªpure bliss.


    After checking her increasingly radiant complexion in the mirror, she began her morning routine with satisfaction.


    After nearly a month of buildup, today was finally the day to reel in the net.


    And she wasn¡¯t the only one looking forward to it¡ªonline spectators were buzzing with excitement.


    The moment the livestream began, a flood of comments poured in:


    ¡¾I¡¯m here, I¡¯m here!¡¿


    ¡¾Support Jin Jiu!!¡¿


    ¡¾Yu Hongdou forever!¡¿


    ¡¾Where¡¯s Chairwoman Sheng? Her beauty is unmatched!¡¿


    ¡¾An Baixing An Baixing An Baixing!¡¿


    ¡¾Look at all the gorgeous people around Sheng Quan¡ªwho do I even envy first?¡¿


    ¡¾Hostess girl¡¯s back! Come here, let me kiss you!¡¿


    Only eight contestants remained in the finals.


    They would perform in reverse order of their current rankings, meaning Jin Jiu, who was in first place, would take the stage last.


    During the performances of the eighth and seventh-place contestants, the audience didn¡¯t notice anything unusual.


    But when the sixth-place contestant appeared, and their votes suddenly skyrocketed from five million to fifteen million, shock rippled through the crowd.


    ¡¾Holy¡ªcheck the leaderboard! That 10 million came from a single account!¡¿


    ¡¾Isn¡¯t that that guy?!¡¿


    ¡¾Damn, 10 million. Just like that.¡¿


    ¡¾Absolute madman, respect.¡¿


    Then they realized¡ªthey hadn¡¯t seen anything yet.


    As the contestants took the stage one after another, the leaderboard was dominated by big spenders.


    Ten million. Twenty million. Twenty-five million.


    And these weren¡¯t anonymous donors¡ªthey were well-known figures, from industry veterans to celebrities, all suddenly radiating an overwhelming passion for charity. Every one of them seemed to be shouting, ¡°I will contribute to this noble cause!¡±


    Until Ma Wei made his appearance, the vote count was suddenly skyrocketed to forty million, courtesy of Hua Qing from the same company.


    The faces of the previously enthusiastic voters instantly darkened.


    The artist beside Hua Qing smiled politely and muttered under her breath, "You really don¡¯t want to let anyone else play, do you? Forty million¡ªhow could you even afford that?"


    Hua Qing flashed a perfectly rehearsed smile, her voice barely audible through gritted teeth:


    "I don¡¯t have that kind of money. It¡¯s the company¡¯s."


    Her fellow artist clapped along with the crowd, continuing their hushed exchange:


    "Well, your company just made a fierce enemy of Xing Mang. I wonder if Chairman Sheng will counter with an even bigger move."


    She doubted Sheng Quan would actually spend forty million. After all, it was cold hard cash, poured into charity¡ªno matter how symbolic the gesture, it was still just money thrown at making a statement.


    Wan Sheng¡¯s preemptive strike with forty million was likely meant to pressure Sheng Quan into backing down.


    Since Sheng Quan hadn¡¯t started voting yet, there was no sunk cost on her part. She could easily walk away without a fight.


    That was the logical conclusion, but the audience¡ªfake as they were¡ªcouldn¡¯t help but glance subtly in Sheng Quan¡¯s direction.


    She didn¡¯t seem the least bit fazed by the forty million. She smiled, clapping along, even tilting her head to accept a small bite of cake from Ming Qi.


    A creeping unease settled in Hua Qing¡¯s chest. Though it wasn¡¯t Jin Jiu¡¯s turn yet, she already sensed that the company¡¯s carefully laid plans weren¡¯t going to unfold as intended.


    Maybe it was time to jump ship. Wan Sheng was clearly declining, and the two big bosses were letting their personal grudges against Director Gu bleed into business matters. Mixing personal vendettas with work? That was a disaster waiting to happen.


    Her thoughts were still racing when Jin Jiu took the stage.


    He looked nothing like the contestant from the preliminary rounds. If the semifinals had been his first glow-up, now, standing under the spotlight, he practically radiated brilliance.


    How much of it was the lighting technician¡¯s doing was anyone¡¯s guess, but when his siren-like voice filled the air, even Hua Qing had to admit¡ªhe was undeniably talented.


    Natural talent wasn¡¯t scary. What was terrifying was someone like Jin Jiu, whose gift had been crushed, only for him to rebuild it from scratch. Anyone could see his potential, and no wonder Sheng Quan was personally backing him.


    ¡ªYeah, definitely time to switch companies.


    Jin Jiu¡¯s votes soared, quickly surpassing thirty million. And these were purely fan votes¡ªproof of just how many supporters he¡¯d won over in three rounds.


    All of it, meticulously crafted by Sheng Quan¡¯s influence.


    Eyes instinctively turned to Sheng Quan. Even the cameras couldn¡¯t resist panning toward her.


    Under the weight of the crowd¡¯s gaze, she tapped the voting panel.


    On the giant screen, Jin Jiu¡¯s numbers skyrocketed.


    The internet erupted. Paparazzi sneaking photos nearly toppled out of their seats. The livestream chat exploded with screaming caps-lock reactions. The director blinked hard, wondering if his eyes were playing tricks. The station manager lunged toward the backstage monitor.


    The hostess stared up at the voting display, her heart threatening to burst.


    On the official program website, Sheng Quan¡¯s username leapt to the top of the finals leaderboard, displayed boldly for all to see:


    **[Victory Secured: 100 million votes]**

 Chapter 26

    When the votes hit ten million, the audience erupted with chants of "666." At twenty million, they cheered, "Insane! Insane!" Thirty million had everyone on their feet, and by forty million, screenshots were already circulating online.


    And then, Sheng Quan dropped a hundred million.


    The sheer magnitude of the number left everyone stunned.


    What does a hundred million even mean?


    Stacked in hundred-yuan bills, it¡¯d take a truck to haul it.


    Left in a bank, the interest alone could sustain an average family for a lifetime.


    If you played the lottery, the top prize might be ten million¡ªso a hundred million meant hitting the jackpot ten times over.


    Yet for Sheng Quan, it was just a single tap on the screen.


    ¡¾AHHHHHHHHHH!!!¡¿


    ¡¾OH MY GOD OH MY GOD OH MY GOD¡¿


    ¡¾A HUNDRED MILLION!!!! A HUNDRED MILLION!!!!!¡¿


    The audience instantly transformed into a chorus of screaming fans. If they''d been awed by forty million before, now their eyes were glued to that staggering nine-digit figure.


    Jin Jiu stood frozen in shock, staring up at the massive screen.


    Backstage, An Baixing nearly choked on the peach in his mouth: "Holy¡ªa hundred million? I wouldn¡¯t even dare dream that big."


    Director Zhou Weigang clutched the arm of the person next to him, legs wobbling: "A hundred million... This is going viral. Absolutely viral!"


    "Right?! A single vote worth a hundred million! I can¡¯t even imagine¡ªthis¡¯ll take over the internet!"


    "No, it¡¯s more than that!" Zhou Weigang might have struggled in his career, but his instincts were sharp¡ªotherwise, with his mouth, he¡¯d never have lasted this long. His mind raced:


    "The platform¡¯s already been cleared for transactions. That money¡¯s going straight to national charities. With Sheng Quan¡¯s donation hitting nine figures, how do you think the state media will cover this?"


    His hands trembled with excitement, words tumbling out faster:


    "Entertainment shows never get positive coverage from official outlets¡ªit¡¯s always criticism. But if *People¡¯s Daily* or other state media praise us? Our show, our network, will have the government¡¯s stamp of approval. No, wait¡ª"


    Zhou Weigang¡¯s gaze locked onto Sheng Quan in the audience. She sat composed, as elegant as ever. Suddenly, it clicked:


    "That¡¯s it. She planned this from the start. That hundred million? She always meant to spend it."


    A staffer frowned. "From the start? Even fifty million would¡¯ve crushed the competition."


    "She didn¡¯t just want to win¡ªshe wanted everyone else to look like extras. You know the saying, ¡®Better to be the head of a chicken than the tail of a phoenix¡¯? Well, Sheng Quan didn¡¯t even bother with the chicken. She went straight for the phoenix¡¯s crown."


    There was admiration in Zhou Weigang¡¯s eyes¡ªand relief.


    This wasn¡¯t some underhanded scheme. Sheng Quan¡¯s move was blatant, almost too simple.


    She hadn¡¯t stopped others from trying to steal the spotlight because she *knew* no one could outshine her.


    Even if someone were reckless enough to bid over a hundred million, who had that kind of liquid cash on hand?


    Who¡¯d have thought Sheng Quan had a hundred million ready to burn¡ªand donated it without blinking?


    Certainly not the two shareholders of Wan Sheng.


    When they saw the livestream clip, neither was drinking, yet they still choked on air:


    "Is Sheng Quan insane?! A HUNDRED MILLION?!!"


    "She could¡¯ve done anything with that money, and she threw it at some no-name singer?! If she¡¯d just said she liked that type, I¡¯d have sent her ten myself!!"


    Frantic, they pulled up the official charity site partnered with *Sing with You*. Sure enough, the donation was there.


    They exchanged a glance, mutual despair in their eyes.


    No fakery. Sheng Quan had really donated a hundred million.


    The urge to cry was overwhelming. *If you were going to donate a hundred million, why didn¡¯t you say so sooner?!*


    Their forty million had drained personal accounts and company reserves¡ªall based on the assumption that no one else had significant liquid funds.


    Who the hell expected Sheng Quan to pull out a hundred million?!


    Their high-stakes gamble had failed instantly, achieving nothing except hastening their already-crumbling company¡¯s downfall.


    "Enough," Chen Xuanzheng forced himself to focus. "We need to figure out how to apologize to Sheng Quan."


    Someone who could casually donate a hundred million wasn¡¯t someone Wan Sheng¡ªteetering on collapse¡ªcould afford to cross.


    He Qi knew that, but bitterness still clawed at him: "Will it even matter? Gu Zhao works for her now. Who knows what he¡¯s been saying about us? Just the thought of facing that smug bastard makes my blood boil."


    "Or what? Pick a fight with Sheng Quan? You feel like tangling with someone who throws around a hundred million? Is your pride worth *that* much?"


    He Qi: "...Point taken. Let¡¯s arrange the apology."


    Not once did the thought *"She cost us forty million¡ªthis means war!"* cross their minds.


    They might have been mediocre CEOs, but they weren¡¯t stupid.


    Only an idiot would provoke someone with that kind of cash.


    Meanwhile, on the national charity platform, the total donations suddenly spiked.


    As mentioned earlier, charity in Starlight Entertainment¡¯s world was tightly regulated. After a nationwide embezzlement scandal, all organizations were required to operate with full transparency¡ªevery cent in and out was publicly logged.


    This system had its flaws, but it remained in place. Any citizen could check the details of any charity¡¯s transactions.


    The benefits were undeniable. Donors could track their contributions to the exact project, fostering trust and encouraging repeat donations¡ªeven small ones.


    Du Xiuli, a charity worker, took pride in seeing funds reach those in need.


    That day, she was reviewing records when a colleague¡¯s hushed-but-excited voice cut through the office:


    "One person donated a *hundred million*?!"


    Du Xiuli frowned. "Focus on your work."


    "Director, look."


    The young man hurried over, unable to contain himself¡ª


    **Document Translation:**


    "The student aid donation platform suddenly received a large donation. During verification, it was discovered that a single individual had contributed 100 million yuan."


    Upon hearing this, Du Xiuli was visibly shocked.


    Having assets worth over 100 million wasn¡¯t uncommon in China, but donating such an amount in one go¡ªwho was this bold figure?


    "A talent show?"


    "Right, one focused on charity. They¡¯ve coordinated with us before, so the funds were directly deposited. I¡¯ve just confirmed everything¡ªthe process was flawless, following all regulations."


    The only thing the young man was unsure about was: "A donation this massive could easily be highlighted as a model case. But since the show acted as a third-party intermediary, do we commend the program or the individual?"


    Du Xiuli wasn¡¯t certain either.


    In all her years of work, this was the first time she¡¯d encountered a single donation of this scale. There wasn¡¯t even a precedent to follow.


    She stood up decisively. "I¡¯ll consult the higher-ups. Carry on with your tasks."


    100 million yuan.


    It would be inexcusable not to recognize it.


    While the institution held meetings to discuss this unexpected windfall, Sheng Quan was greeted by a swarm of reporters the moment she stepped out after the show.


    Truth be told, the media had tried cornering her twice before, but she¡¯d always slipped away through another exit.


    This time, however, she willingly let herself be caught.


    It was her first direct interaction with the press.


    Prior reports about her had been from paparazzi snapping covert photos, their headlines wildly exaggerated, practically screaming "clickbait":


    *"Sheng Quan Embraces Two Men in Luxurious Hot Spring Getaway"*¡ªwhen in reality, she was simply soaking in the springs while her driver and assistant waited outside.


    *"Sheng Quan and Ming Qi Stroll Through Market, Sparking Engagement Rumors"*¡ªthe article claimed Ming Qi¡¯s contract was expiring and he¡¯d inevitably join Starlight Entertainment.


    *"Sheng Quan¡¯s Jaw-Dropping Luxury Car Stuns Onlookers"*¡ªthe photo showed her sipping soy milk in her car while a passerby gawked and snapped a picture.


    ¡ªShe still suspected that "passerby" was just a paparazzo in disguise.


    Naturally, the entertainment media was thrilled to finally interview her.


    It would¡¯ve been even better if she weren¡¯t shielded by a towering bodyguard who looked like he could take on a whole crowd.


    Her assistant had tried stepping in, but his modest height and build rendered him invisible to the eager reporters.


    Sheng Quan patted her dutiful driver, who promptly moved aside, revealing his previously obscured boss.


    Meanwhile, at Starlight Entertainment, Gu Zhao sat behind his desk, watching Sheng Quan¡¯s composed response to the question, *"Isn¡¯t donating 100 million for votes a bit excessive?"*


    "If it were just any show, of course I wouldn¡¯t invest this much. But since every cent goes to charity, I see no issue."


    "Yes, I adore Jin Jiu. Initially, I stumbled upon his past performances by chance, but the more I learned about him, the more I admired him. Of course, I¡¯d love for him to join the Starlight Entertainment family¡ªI¡¯ll be discussing that with him soon."


    "I also want to thank *The Voice of You*. I¡¯m actually quite frugal¡ªno, really! I¡¯m stingy enough to only add one egg to my jianbing. But this is the first platform I¡¯ve encountered where every penny spent helps underprivileged children. It lets me wholeheartedly support the artists I love, knowing my enthusiasm directly benefits others. That¡¯s truly remarkable."


    "Did the show adjust its schedule for me? Haha, would you believe me if I said I had no idea? I only found out through trending topics. Truthfully, I just mentioned I¡¯d attend no matter how late it ran¡ªpartly for Jin Jiu, but also because the show¡¯s charitable mission is incredible. Blending entertainment with philanthropy is no small feat."


    "It often feels like the public assumes the entertainment industry is all chaos. But I believe great works, artists, and programs can inspire positivity. I hope to see more shows like *The Voice of You*¡ªuplifting, entertaining, and socially impactful."


    After a barrage of questions, another reporter asked:


    "100 million is no small sum. Do you think you¡¯ll regret tonight¡¯s decision?"


    Sheng Quan faced the camera with unwavering certainty. "No."


    "My favorite line from Qin Heng in *The Road of Life* goes: *''You can be a happy good person¡ªbecause doing good inherently brings joy.''* That resonated deeply with me."


    "I can say with absolute confidence that donating this 100 million has made me happy."


    Gu Zhao watched as the screen cut to the reporter, an uncharacteristic ease flickering across his expression.


    This 100 million would undoubtedly soften the scorn of those who¡¯d underestimated Starlight Entertainment.


    Suddenly, they¡¯d all be eager to befriend and collaborate with the fledgling company. As for its 23-year-old CEO? After Sheng Quan¡¯s donation, even if she were thirteen¡ªor three¡ªthey¡¯d still flock to her, chanting *"Chairman Sheng."*


    Take Wansheng, for instance. Gu Zhao was certain Chen Xuanzheng and He Qi would materialize in Starlight¡¯s office within three days, warmly reminiscing about the "good old days."


    Actually, given their personalities, they¡¯d probably call first, spouting pleasantries like *"How¡¯ve you been?"* and *"Let¡¯s grab a drink."*


    To be fair, their gamble wasn¡¯t misguided¡ªbetting 40 million could¡¯ve salvaged Wansheng¡¯s decline.


    They just hadn¡¯t anticipated Sheng Quan¡¯s 100 million.


    As Gu Zhao mused, his phone rang.


    He glanced down, then answered to Chen Xuanzheng¡¯s jovial voice:


    "Gu Zhao, it¡¯s me. How¡¯ve you been? Fancy a drink?"


    Gu Zhao checked his watch.


    "Quite well. Chairman Sheng treats me exceptionally. A drink sounds perfect¡ªI¡¯d like to discuss Hua Qing¡¯s contract termination too."


    Chen Xuanzheng¡¯s face instantly darkened. "Hua Qing is one of Wansheng¡¯s Four Rising Stars. You know how vital she is to us. We¡¯re not handing her over to Starlight."


    Gu Zhao arched a brow, leaning back in his chair with the air of a lengthy discussion¡ªyet his words were clipped: "Then we¡¯re done here. Goodbye."


    "Wait a minute!" Even without seeing him, Chen Xuanzheng could already picture Gu Zhao''s icy, expressionless face just from his tone. The mere thought made his spleen, liver, and kidneys ache in protest, but considering the company''s current situation, he had no choice but to swallow his frustration and amend his words: "...If Starlight Entertainment wants it, we can negotiate. But these terms..."


    Ten minutes later:


    Gu Zhao pulled open his desk drawer and tossed a stack of files into the trash.


    Secretary Zhang walked in with documents and stared in surprise at the discarded pile:


    "Mr. Gu, are these no longer needed?"


    Just last night, Gu Zhao had kept the team working overtime to prepare them.


    "Throw them away."


    Gu Zhao accepted the new files with visible satisfaction:


    "For a long time to come, Starlight won¡¯t face any malicious competition."


    And that wasn¡¯t all¡ªthey were about to experience a surge in public attention.


    This massive donation would instantly capture the internet¡¯s focus, far surpassing the previous minor buzz that barely scraped the third or fourth spot on trending lists.


    A charity initiative within an entertainment program yielding such significant results carried immense social influence. For such a positive event in the entertainment industry, the media would spare no effort in extensive coverage.


    Gu Zhao wasn¡¯t just in a good mood¡ªhe was downright elated.


    He felt the stark contrast between his time at Wansheng and now.


    At Wansheng, he¡¯d been dragging dead weight, where the exhaustion of work paled in comparison to the sheer frustration of dealing with his two former employers.


    At Starlight, he could simply focus on his job. Sheng Quan not only gave him complete trust but also propelled the entire company forward in leaps and bounds.


    The more Gu Zhao thought about it, the brighter his mood grew. He even decided to celebrate by working late¡ªuntil 10 p.m.


    His premature celebration turned out to be justified.


    That 100 million yuan donation ignited a frenzy.


    Media outlets scrambled for coverage. If they couldn¡¯t interview Sheng Quan, they went after the production team. If the team was unavailable, they turned to audience members, and some even sought out the heads of national charity organizations.


    As the director had predicted, this "righteous entertainment, merging fun with philanthropy" approach earned praise from authoritative media.


    Statements like Sheng Quan¡¯s¡ª"A good show can inspire fans with positivity" and "Support your favorite contestants freely while also helping others"¡ªwere met with high acclaim.


    Headlines like *Positive Energy in Fandom*, *Watch Good Shows, Sing Good Songs, Be Good People*, and *You Can Be Happy and Kind* flooded in.


    Authority carried weight. Once media outlets that rarely praised the entertainment industry voiced their approval, other entertainment platforms quickly followed suit, showering the event with enthusiastic praise.


    In an era of entertainment, not everyone pays attention to celebrity news.


    But a personal donation of 100 million yuan? That was a headline eight out of ten people would click on.


    And once they clicked, the domino effect began.


    *Who is Sheng Quan?* Oh¡ªa young tycoon. So rich! She owns Huaxing Building too? Let¡¯s follow her.


    *Who¡¯s Jin Jiu?* His singing is incredible. Wait¡ªhis past was that tragic? And he still trained his voice back to perfection? So inspiring. Follow.


    *What¡¯s Starlight Entertainment?* Oh, Sheng Quan¡¯s company. Who else is signed there?


    *What¡¯s* Life¡¯s Journey*? Who¡¯s Qin Heng?* Turns out Sheng Quan invested to preserve the original novel¡¯s integrity. And who¡¯s this "pancake stall hottie"? Yan Hui is so handsome! Lin Aike is stunning too. Those clips show great acting and styling¡ªseems like a solid series. Bookmark it for later.


    A chain reaction unfolded, bringing everyone and everything tied to Sheng Quan into the spotlight¡ªsome becoming household names, others gaining recognition, all drawing public interest.


    Even those usually indifferent to celebrity gossip spared a moment of attention after seeing "100 million yuan donation."


    Sheng Quan: a woman who signed an artist after buying a pancake, who invested in an adaptation to protect the original work¡¯s quality, who casually donated 100 million yuan in a charity show.


    How could anyone *not* pay attention?


    Even Strawberry TV, with its sky-high viewership, had to admit¡ªthis 100 million was money well spent.


    In an industry where attention is the most crucial yet elusive currency, Sheng Quan now had it overflowing.


    That 100 million bought her...


    ¡ªA moment in the *limelight*.

 Chapter 27

    Stories often fade into mundanity after their climax, but in reality, such heightened attention lasts far longer than one might expect.


    Just as that legendary prophet had predicted, after watching the show, Sheng Quan immediately signed three contestants: Jin Jiu, Yu Hongdou, and An Baixing.


    Yu Hongdou and An Baixing were among the most outstanding contestants, and many companies were eager to recruit them. However, the moment Sheng Quan expressed her interest, neither hesitated before choosing Xingmang Entertainment.


    Jin Jiu¡¯s signing, however, came with a small twist. Several companies, captivated by his current fame and potential, were willing to offer exorbitant signing fees and profit-sharing terms that could only be described as exceptionally generous.


    Yet, he didn¡¯t even wait to hear all the benefits before firmly refusing, declaring, ¡°I will only sign with Xingmang.¡±


    The staff member who handed Jin Jiu his phone couldn¡¯t help but express regret: ¡°This is a major company. They¡¯re willing to pay you such a high price because they¡¯re serious about promoting you. Xingmang may be on the rise now, but it¡¯s still a new company¡ªthey can¡¯t offer you the same level of resources.¡±


    Jin Jiu remained unwavering. ¡°Then I¡¯ll still only go to Xingmang.¡±


    An Baixing wholeheartedly supported his decision. ¡°Exactly! Those companies just see you as a cash cow. Don¡¯t fall for it!¡±


    ¡°Right.¡± Jin Jiu nodded firmly. ¡°I¡¯ll only be Sheng Quan¡¯s cash cow.¡±


    An Baixing had been nodding along enthusiastically, but after hearing this, he paused for a moment to think. ¡°...But Sheng Quan probably doesn¡¯t see you that way. She likes *you*¡ªnot just what you can do for her. It¡¯s different from those other companies.¡±


    Jin Jiu¡¯s face flushed slightly at the words. His naturally pale skin made the blush even more noticeable, spreading all the way to the tips of his ears, which turned as red as blood. He mumbled softly,


    ¡°Don¡¯t say nonsense. She just likes my singing.¡±


    ¡°What¡¯s the difference?¡± An Baixing remained oblivious to Jin Jiu¡¯s near-paralyzing embarrassment and continued cheerfully, ¡°Honestly, if you¡¯re going to work under a boss, Sheng Quan is the kind you want. That¡¯s why I agreed to Xingmang without hesitation! With all of us there, and the big boss already favoring you, I¡¯ll definitely have a better time than at any other company.¡±


    ¡°But I still think Sheng Quan likes *you*, not just your voice. There are countless singers out there, so why does she only take a special interest in you? Listen, you¡¯ve got to seize this opportunity. Keep improving, build yourself up, and one day, we¡¯ll both be legendary! Also¡ª¡±


    ¡°Huh? Why is your face so red? Hey¡ªwhy are you running away? I wasn¡¯t finished!¡±


    ***


    The next time Sheng Quan saw Jin Jiu, she noticed he barely spoke a few words before his face turned beet red¡ªand it really was a *small* face. Jin Jiu¡¯s bone structure was so striking that he looked incredible on camera, but in person, the sheer impact of his beauty was undeniable.


    No wonder he¡¯d once been called an ¡°angel.¡±


    Even though Jin Jiu was no longer the fifteen- or sixteen-year-old boy he¡¯d once been, his looks were still breathtaking enough to leave people speechless.


    If not for the fact that Xingmang Entertainment was packed with stunningly attractive people¡ªgiving Sheng Quan some immunity to beauty¡ªshe might have been momentarily dazed by his appearance.


    She shamelessly admired him for a second before noticing his blush deepening.


    ¡°Are you okay? Do you have a fever?¡±


    As both his fan and his boss, Sheng Quan couldn¡¯t help but express concern.


    Jin Jiu shook his head, his face still pink. ¡°No, I¡¯m just... a little warm.¡±


    Despite his obvious shyness, his eyes gleamed as he looked at Sheng Quan, as if silently assuring her that he was in perfect condition¡ªready to work, earn money, and do whatever the company asked of him.


    Sheng Quan¡¯s thought: *Adorable.*


    Though Jin Jiu insisted he was fine and eager to start working immediately, Sheng Quan remembered the book¡¯s description of how thirty years of silent nights had ravaged his health.


    Even though he was only twenty-three now, his frail frame and sickly pale complexion made her deeply suspicious of his actual physical state.


    She¡¯d bet anything that Jin Jiu had stomach problems.


    Come to think of it, Ming Qi and Liu Zi¡¯an also had stomach issues.


    Seemed like chronic gastritis was practically a job requirement in this industry.


    She immediately decided on the first order of business for these newly signed artists.


    Jin Jiu had been signed to companies before, and their strategy had always been the same: endless activities, concerts, recordings¡ªkeeping him so busy he barely had time to eat, sometimes even being abruptly woken from sleep.


    That kind of life was exhausting, but the thought that Xingmang belonged to Sheng Quan made it all feel a little less grueling.


    He steeled himself, prepared for the high-pressure workload to come.


    But the first assignment Xingmang gave them after signing?


    A hospital visit.


    When Jin Jiu, An Baixing, and Yu Hongdou arrived at the hospital, they found Hua Qing, Ming Qi, and other artists already waiting, masks on, looking equally confused.


    The staff member who brought them smiled reassuringly. ¡°Aihe Hospital only admits patients with prior appointments, so privacy won¡¯t be an issue.¡±


    An Baixing, who had stayed up late gaming the night before, slumped against Jin Jiu with a yawn. ¡°Why are we at a hospital?¡±


    ¡°Sheng Quan has arranged full physical examinations for all of you,¡± the staff explained. ¡°Please wait here¡ªthe check-ups will begin shortly.¡±


    An Baixing brightened in realization. ¡°Oh, right, a company physical. Didn¡¯t know the entertainment industry did those too.¡±


    Jin Jiu nudged him. ¡°They sent us a text about it. Didn¡¯t you see?¡±


    ¡°Huh?¡± An Baixing hastily pulled out his phone and scrolled. ¡°Oh, wow, they really did. My bad¡ªmy inbox is always flooded with spam. Promotions, loan ads, carrier deals... I just ignore them unless someone messages me directly.¡±


    Though he¡¯d never worked a corporate job before, he was familiar with the concept of pre-employment physicals. After reading the text, he perked up slightly, then glanced around and let out an impressed whistle.


    ¡°But seriously, is this really a hospital? It looks way too... *expensive*.¡±


    Everyone had been to a hospital at least once. An Baixing, for instance, had frequented them as a kid thanks to his tendency to trip, sprain ankles, or pull muscles.


    His mental image of hospitals consisted of sterile white walls, the ever-present sting of disinfectant, slightly worn floor tiles, endless lines at registration and pharmacy counters, a cacophony of voices, and an atmosphere that never quite shook off its gloom no matter how clean it was.


    If you were lucky, you might even get one of those veteran doctors with thinning hair.


    But this place?


    An Baixing¡¯s gaze drifted from the enormous floor-to-ceiling windows to the elegant wall panels¡ªluxury that surpassed some hotels he¡¯d stayed in. *Just the decor alone must¡¯ve cost a fortune.*


    ¡°Why are there so few patients here? It¡¯s practically empty.¡±


    Hua Qing answered, ¡°Aihe Hospital charges premium rates. Naturally, there are fewer people.¡±


    Liu Zi¡¯an asked, ¡°Qing-jie, you¡¯ve heard of this place?¡±


    "This hospital is quite renowned." Hua Qing''s beautiful fox-like eyes brimmed with barely concealed excitement. "From what I know, they excel not just in patient privacy and doctor quality, but also use the best equipment. Most wealthy individuals go to these hospitals for medical care."


    "In our industry alone, several big celebrities come here for treatment¡ªI can name a few off the top of my head. But the fees here are exorbitant. I¡¯d only heard about it before¡ªthis is actually my first time coming."


    Joining Xingmang had been a carefully considered decision for Hua Qing. The appeal lay in the fact that Xingmang was a promising new company with very few signed artists. With her current fame, jumping ship would guarantee her ample resources.


    Most importantly, Wansheng was clearly on the decline, while Xingmang was on the rise¡ªand its CEO was Gu Zhao. Hua Qing believed this gamble was worth taking.


    What even she hadn¡¯t expected, however, was how well Xingmang treated its artists. The moment they signed, the company splurged on bringing them to Aihe Hospital for a full medical check-up.


    Even with her current wealth, she was still far from affording treatment at Aihe. Yet, Chairman Sheng had generously arranged for their entire group to undergo examinations here.


    Sure, part of it was likely due to artists needing discretion in public spaces¡ªbut this was Aihe.


    As Hua Qing shared this insight, the others gradually caught on and buzzed with excitement.


    The prestige of the hospital was secondary¡ªwhat truly mattered was that Xingmang was clearly flush with cash and treated its artists well. Other companies would¡¯ve pushed them straight into work rather than investing in their health.


    The younger and less experienced ones, like Ming Qi and An Baixing, were simply thrilled, eagerly anticipating the check-up process.


    Those who¡¯d clawed their way up, like Hua Qing, Yu Hongdou, and Liu Zi¡¯an, were downright awestruck by the privilege.


    As for Jin Jiu, his thoughts had already jumped to: "Chairman Sheng is so good to us¡ªI¡¯ll work my hardest for her."


    The group immediately chimed in with agreement. Even Hua Qing, the most famous and sharp-witted among them, couldn¡¯t resist praising Sheng Quan¡ªeven though Sheng Quan herself wasn¡¯t present.


    She was beginning to sense it: this time, she¡¯d definitely made the right choice.


    Meanwhile, the subject of their indirect flattery, Sheng Quan, was also undergoing her own check-up.


    Truthfully, she wasn¡¯t as extravagantly wealthy as the public believed. While outsiders assumed Chairman Sheng could casually toss around hundreds of millions, her actual liquid funds amounted to just a few million.


    Saying "just a few million" might sound obnoxiously humble, but compared to her current status, the sum was embarrassingly small.


    For someone considered a tycoon, she didn¡¯t even own a decent luxury watch¡ªGu Zhao had several exorbitantly priced ones.


    From Sheng Quan¡¯s observations, Gu Zhao would match his watch to his workload for the day, pairing it with equally extravagant tie pins¡ªall pinned to bespoke tailored suits, of course.


    Sheng Quan, on the other hand, barely owned any high-end accessories. Maintaining her wealthy persona meant she couldn¡¯t wear anything cheap¡ªunless she wanted tabloids snapping photos and speculating that "Xingmang is on the verge of bankruptcy."


    With only a few million left, she would¡¯ve normally taken her artists to a more affordable clinic. The reason she chose Aihe? She¡¯d won an Aihe Hospital membership in a lucky draw.


    The kind that required a 50-million-yuan deposit.


    When Sheng Quan saw the prize, all she could think was: *How absurd.*


    A hospital with a membership system?


    And a 50-million deposit? Even if she fell ill dozens of times a year, it¡¯d take decades to use it all up.


    It felt like adopting a puppy, taking it to the groomer twice a month, and then prepaying a million yuan for bath services.


    When she called the hospital, the receptionist¡¯s tone instantly shifted from "friendly" to "*supremely* friendly" upon hearing she was Sheng Quan.


    She understood. If she heard someone had deposited 50 million at her workplace, she¡¯d look at them like they were a mythical being too.


    Fortunately, the membership could be used for others¡ªotherwise, she¡¯d never spend it all in her lifetime.


    For now, she was bringing her artists¡ªthose prone to occupational hazards¡ªfor check-ups to prevent work-related injuries from worsening under strenuous schedules.


    The rest went to Xingmang¡¯s management as a company perk.


    She even considered adding a prize for the annual company lottery: *[Two full-body check-ups at Aihe Hospital]*.


    Apparently, luck didn¡¯t stay consistently good. She still didn¡¯t understand how, among prizes like *[a horse ranch]*, *[a golf course]*, *[a private jet]*, and *[a villa]*, she¡¯d drawn *[Aihe Hospital¡¯s 50-million-yuan membership]*.


    No matter how bizarre it seemed, experiencing Aihe firsthand made her admit¡ªsometimes, expensive *is* worth it.


    She wondered if her past life had hospitals like Aihe catering exclusively to the ultra-rich. Probably. Surely, billionaires didn¡¯t queue up with regular folks for a doctor¡¯s appointment.


    In this world, such places existed¡ªand Aihe wasn¡¯t the only one. Sheng Quan had once heard that "private hospital doctors aren¡¯t as skilled as public ones," but Aihe¡¯s medical resources were undeniably top-tier.


    Then again, it made sense. Why would the wealthy pay so much if the care wasn¡¯t superior? They weren¡¯t fools¡ªonly when treated like royalty would they happily throw money around.


    Now part of that elite, Sheng Quan basked in Aihe¡¯s "spring breeze" of luxurious, exclusive service.


    As a VIP among VIPs (thanks to her 50-million deposit), she had *three* staff attending solely to her¡ªone quietly followed with a tray of drinks, ready to hand her a beverage the moment she glanced at it.


    When she removed her coat for an examination, the guide smoothly took it from her. If she¡¯d hesitated, Sheng Quan suspected the woman might¡¯ve helped her undress.


    No queues. No waiting. Every step flowed seamlessly, every staff member spoke in hushed, soothing tones, and every procedure prioritized her comfort.


    Sheng Quan¡¯s sole takeaway: *Being rich is fantastic. Even a check-up feels like a vacation.*


    Fresh from her exam, a cheerful Chairman Sheng headed off to check on her employees.


    *If my old boss had treated me to something like this, I¡¯d have worked my fingers to the bone without a single complaint behind his back.*


    But the moment she arrived, she saw Gu Zhao stride out of a room. With a quick gesture, a waiting hospital staffer handed him a laptop.


    The second it was in his hands, he settled onto a sofa and started typing away.


    His expression remained completely blank, even carrying a hint of urgency, his movements swift as if performing in a silent film.


    Sheng Quan: "..."


    Never mind. Gu Zhao wasn¡¯t quite like other people.


    Just as she was about to head over to the newly signed artists, another door opened, and Yu Xiangwan stepped out.


    His usual careless demeanor instantly softened the moment he spotted Sheng Quan, a faint smile appearing on his face:


    "You''re here."


    Yu Xiangwan quickly walked up to her: "Thank you. I never expected you to arrange our check-up at Aihe Hospital. This is my first time at such a high-end place."


    Though she knew Yu Xiangwan always showered her with praise, his words still made her happy: "It¡¯s the least I could do. After all, you''re all working for me."


    "How were the results? Everything alright?"


    Yu Xiangwan adjusted his glasses, smiling lightly. "A minor stomach issue, but it¡¯s just from irregular meals¡ªan old problem. Don¡¯t worry, I¡¯ll pay more attention to my diet and rest."


    Sheng Quan: *So it really is a universal stomach ailment among them.*


    But thinking about it, it made sense. In this industry, erratic schedules and skipped meals were the norm. Especially since Yu Xiangwan had endured hardships in the past¡ªif he were perfectly healthy, *that* would¡¯ve been strange.


    As the benevolent boss she was, she immediately declared:


    "Don¡¯t neglect meals just because you''re busy. Look at Director Wan¡ªhis minor issue turned serious. Here¡¯s what we¡¯ll do: I remember there¡¯s a great restaurant near the set. I¡¯ll book it for you until filming wraps up. After that, take a break from the crew and recuperate at the company."


    After a pause, she added, "I¡¯ll need you at full strength to keep working for me."


    Yu Xiangwan would never refuse Sheng Quan. Even if she told him to survive on water alone, he¡¯d nod without hesitation.


    "I¡¯ll follow your instructions." He reached out, gently adjusting the slipping shawl on her shoulder, then produced a small box from seemingly nowhere. "I passed by a shop earlier and bought this. I hope you like it."


    Sheng Quan opened it to find a dazzling diamond hairpin, perfectly complementing her hair color¡ªclearly handpicked with care.


    *Yu Xiangwan never disappoints, not even in taste.*


    Delighted, she held it up. "Thank you, it¡¯s beautiful."


    Then a thought struck her: "This must¡¯ve cost at least ten thousand. You didn¡¯t blow your entire salary on it, did you?"


    "Don¡¯t worry, I have savings. I wouldn¡¯t stretch beyond my means," he replied with a laugh before suggesting, "Yan Hui¡¯s back too. Why don¡¯t we all have dinner together after his check-up?"


    "Sure!"


    Sheng Quan agreed without hesitation and was about to ask if he wanted to visit the company¡¯s artists when a cool, detached voice suddenly cut in:


    "Chairman Sheng, I assume you wouldn¡¯t mind my joining?"


    Startled mid-admiration, Sheng Quan turned to see Gu Zhao¡ªpreviously engrossed in his screen¡ªnow watching them.


    *I completely forgot he was here.*


    Gu Zhao¡¯s expression remained impassive, his frosty, gray eyes shifting naturally to Yu Xiangwan beside her:


    "And you... Producer Yu, surely you have no objections?"


    Yu Xiangwan adjusted his gold-rimmed glasses, exuding a refined yet sly charm as he tilted his head toward Sheng Quan with a gentle smile:


    "I defer entirely to Chairman Sheng."


    Gu Zhao¡¯s gaze snapped back to Sheng Quan.


    Caught between their stares, Sheng Quan: "? Of course I don¡¯t mind. The more, the merrier."


    Gu Zhao closed his laptop, stood, and straightened his tie with dignified reserve:


    "There¡¯s a project requiring your approval. I¡¯ll sit beside you so you can review it during dinner."


    Yu Xiangwan smoothly added: "Feel free to focus. I¡¯ll assist you during the meal."


    "Assisting" meant he¡¯d serve her dishes, peel her shrimp¡ªanything she needed.


    Sheng Quan, who neither wanted to work nor be waited on: "...Neither of you is sitting next to me."


    Gu Zhao frowned. "Then where should we sit?"


    ¡ªForty minutes later¡ª


    In the private dining room¡¯s large round table, laughter and chatter filled the air¡ªexcept for Gu Zhao, who sat stiffly, his face icy.


    To his left: An Baixing, chattering away with Jin Jiu.


    To his right: Yu Xiangwan, explaining company benefits to Yan Hui.


    Further around the table: Yuan Zixin, the deputy director, Liu Zi¡¯an, Yu Hongdou, and more¡ªover a dozen people packed in.


    Sheng Quan, as the host, naturally took the seat of honor.


    Hua Qing sat to her left, Ming Qi to her right. The trio was deep in debate over "which anime character was the most captivating," now swapping phone screens to share recommendations and fan art.


    Surrounded by a cool beauty and a sweetheart, Chairman Sheng was too thrilled to eat much.


    An Baixing was equally thrilled¡ªsurrounded by celebrities, he collected WeChat contacts like treasures, convinced his phone had skyrocketed in value.


    Since Jin Jiu was shy, An Baixing eagerly helped him add everyone too.


    The only one left? Gu Zhao.


    An Baixing eyed Gu Zhao¡¯s cold profile as the man stared at his phone, hesitating. *This is the boss¡¯s boss. Better not disturb.*


    The man radiated the aloof, untouchable aura of a drama CEO.


    Giving up, An Baixing turned to Yuan Zixin for company gossip instead.


    Noticing his glance, Yuan Zixin warned quietly: "President Gu is dedicated. He¡¯d work through an IV drip. He¡¯s probably handling business on his phone now."


    An Baixing¡¯s admiration swelled. *A CEO who works through meals? With leadership like this, Jin Jiu and I are destined for stardom!*


    Seated apart, Gu Zhao tapped "Purchase."


    The order confirmation popped up:


    *[Dear customer, please confirm your order: Men¡¯s Ultra-Light Gold Business Glasses]*


    *[P.S.: Post a review with photos for a cash rebate!~]*

 Chapter 28

    When she was still a corporate drone, Sheng Quan absolutely despised attending company dinners.


    The main reason was that these gatherings always happened either after work hours or on weekends. Every time there was a dinner, it meant her personal time was being squeezed dry by the exploitative company for at least three extra hours.


    But when she became the top boss herself¡ªfree to schedule these dinners during workdays¡ªshe suddenly discovered that company dinners could actually be quite enjoyable.


    Part of this joy came from the fact that the table was filled with attractive subordinates, but what delighted her most was what this gathering represented: Starlight Entertainment was finally on the right track.


    A company couldn¡¯t survive on money and employees alone¡ªat least not an entertainment company. It needed performers who could actually turn a profit.


    Before this, if she¡¯d wanted, she could¡¯ve easily ordered her team to sign a whole roster of talent.


    But Starlight Entertainment wasn¡¯t one of those shady agencies that scammed trainees out of signing fees, so their growth strategy had been limited to prioritizing quality over quantity.


    Of course, this "quantity" was relative compared to other companies. A powerhouse like Starlight couldn¡¯t possibly cultivate only a dozen or so artists.


    Gu Zhao had been swamped, tirelessly negotiating potential collaborations for Starlight Entertainment.


    Outwardly, he appeared ice-cold¡ªthe kind of ruthless CEO you¡¯d see in dramas who¡¯d dismissively say, "Don¡¯t bother me for anything under 100 million."


    In reality? He devoted 100% focus to even the smallest potential project. Even if a deal wasn¡¯t finalized yet, he¡¯d fight to secure at least a 51% inclination from the other party.


    Partners didn¡¯t just fall from the sky. In the early stages, even a well-funded company like Starlight Entertainment had to painstakingly build connections one by one.


    So Sheng Quan could hardly fathom¡ªif she felt the struggles of entrepreneurship with Starlight¡¯s charmed beginnings, how had Gu Zhao dragged the hellscape that was Wansheng Entertainment up from the depths all by himself?


    But now, things were better. With so many capable hands under her, Starlight was finally hitting its stride.


    The company¡¯s expenses were all covered by the rental income from Huaxing Building, meaning she didn¡¯t have to spend a single cent¡ªjust sit back and wait for the profits to roll in.


    Sheng Quan could practically see piles of cash fluttering toward her.


    They were going to make an absolute killing.


    During the dinner, she¡¯d been happily daydreaming¡ªuntil the health reports came in. Then she understood why this team was so ruthlessly competent.


    Real life wasn¡¯t a TV drama. Normal humans who pushed their bodies to the brink couldn¡¯t possibly emerge unscathed.


    It was downright unreal. In the entire group, only An Baixing could claim full physical and mental health.


    Everyone else had stomach issues¡ªsome even had malnutrition.


    Even Gu Zhao, whose condition was the most stable due to ongoing treatment, still needed long-term care.


    Yu Xiangwan had mentioned his health casually, but his report revealed he and Gu Zhao were practically brothers in suffering.


    Yuan Zixin wasn¡¯t much better¡ªin fact, her condition was slightly worse.


    As for the artists: Ming Qi fared relatively well, though she¡¯d developed shoulder inflammation from filming. Hua Qing and Liu Zi''an had a whole catalog of minor occupational ailments¡ªnot severe, but enough to cause daily discomfort.


    Hua Qing also had some psychological struggles, though thankfully mild. According to her, it stemmed from a role she couldn¡¯t quite shake off.


    Yan Hui hadn¡¯t escaped either. He¡¯d survived long stretches of surviving on three hours of sleep¡ªif his hair hadn¡¯t fallen out, it was nothing short of a miracle.


    And then there was Jin Jiu, the reason this company-wide health check had happened in the first place. When Sheng Quan saw his report, one phrase flashed through her mind:


    ¡ªA broken doll.


    The novel had only mentioned Jin Jiu¡¯s voice being ruined by poison, but Zhou Xie hadn¡¯t exactly sourced "professional vocal-cord-destroying toxin." The drug had ravaged far more than just his singing.


    His foundation was already weak. After dropping out, he¡¯d worked himself to the bone¡ªscraping together money for medical treatments and classes while squeezing in time for performances. That his body wasn¡¯t completely in tatters was a miracle.


    And that wasn¡¯t even touching his severe psychological struggles.


    Sheng Quan looked up at Jin Jiu.


    He sat quietly, hands slightly curled at his sides, his presence so faint he almost disappeared into the background. The only sign of life was the faint pallor of his face. But when he noticed her gaze, his eyes brightened, and he offered her a small, shy smile.


    It was impossible to reconcile this image with someone enduring relentless physical and mental agony.


    "You didn¡¯t tell me the doctor said your pain levels are extreme," she said.


    Jin Jiu¡¯s voice was soft. "I¡¯m used to it."


    Three light words¡ªyet they struck like a hammer to the chest.


    What kind of life does someone have to live, to grow accustomed to pain like that?


    Sheng Quan''s emotions were in turmoil. She couldn''t help but wonder¡ªif Jin Jiu''s health had deteriorated like this in just seven years, what about the thirty years described in the book? Had he endured this constant, unrelenting pain all that time?


    Jin Jiu was really too docile. Perhaps sensing Sheng Quan''s distress, he cautiously glanced at her again and added softly,


    "Actually, once you get used to it, it doesn¡¯t hurt as much."


    As if anyone could ever "get used to" pain. He just didn¡¯t want her to worry.


    Unable to hold back, Sheng Quan gently reached out and ruffled his hair.


    "Come on, no one gets used to pain. They¡¯ll come up with a treatment plan here, and we¡¯ll make sure you recover fully. You need to follow the doctors¡¯ instructions properly. Once you¡¯re better, I¡¯ve got work lined up for you."


    Jin Jiu nodded obediently. "I¡¯ll cooperate fully."


    After the medical checkup, most of Sheng Quan''s "talented recruits" had effectively become "patients in need of care."


    Fortunately, they were all still relatively young. While each had their own ailments, most were the result of irregular schedules, poor diets, intense physical strain, and neglecting medical care.


    Take Gu Zhao, for example. Ever since Sheng Quan had enforced a strict no-overtime-past-10-pm rule, his recovery progress had accelerated dramatically.


    Not that he was happy about the overtime ban¡ªbut in Starlight Entertainment, Sheng Quan¡¯s word was law.


    With a single directive from her, everyone entered treatment programs.


    Hua Qing was utterly stunned, especially when the company slashed most of her originally scheduled engagements to prioritize her treatment. The whole situation felt surreal.


    Having worked under two other agencies, she knew exactly how the entertainment industry operated.


    There was a saying: *An artist¡¯s body belongs to them, but the money they earn for the company will always be the company¡¯s.*


    That perfectly encapsulated the mindset of most agencies.


    Would an artist¡¯s health be ruined? All the more reason to squeeze every last drop of profit out of them before it happened.


    After all, it wasn¡¯t *their* bodies on the line. No one cared¡ªexcept the artists themselves.


    Yet here was Starlight, barely after signing her¡ªeven paying a hefty sum to acquire her¡ªnot rushing to exploit her for profit, not overworking her, but actively investing in her well-being.


    Hua Qing was floored.


    Even as one of the "Four Rising Flowers," she¡¯d never expected such treatment at Starlight. Forget her¡ªeven A-list stars were routinely pushed to their limits by their agencies.


    What shocked her more was that this wasn¡¯t just about her. Every artist under Starlight, regardless of fame (or lack thereof), was given time to recuperate.


    And all treatments were conducted at Aihe Hospital¡ªrenowned for its efficiency, impeccable privacy, and exorbitant fees. Yet Starlight didn¡¯t hesitate. Customized recovery plans were arranged for everyone.


    Hua Qing never once suspected Gu Zhao¡¯s involvement.


    Having transferred from Wansheng, she knew him as a man who saw only profit, coldly efficient as a machine.


    He¡¯d never actively exploited artists, but he certainly wasn¡¯t the type to fuss over their health. As long as they delivered returns, their well-being was irrelevant.


    Such generosity could only be Sheng Quan¡¯s doing.


    After eight full hours of sleep, rehab sessions, balanced meals, and even one-on-one therapy with Aihe¡¯s psychologists, Hua Qing felt lighter than she had in years.


    Once her recovery was well underway, she studied her reflection and realized¡ªshe actually looked *prettier*. But of course she did.


    No amount of sheet masks could offset chronic sleep deprivation.


    Gradually, Hua Qing regained her peak condition¡ªnot just physically, but mentally.


    The old desperation, the fear of being cast aside if she didn¡¯t claw her way up, had faded. For the first time in ages, she felt *secure*. Logically, she had no precedent for this trust, but she *knew* Starlight wouldn¡¯t betray her.


    Even when work resumed and this respite ended, that certainty remained.


    She threw herself into the acting, posture, and movement classes Starlight arranged, seizing every chance to improve. Whenever An Baixing groaned about exhaustion, Hua Qing would chide,


    "The company¡¯s investing in us. That means they¡¯re planning for the long term."


    Without realizing it, Hua Qing had changed.


    At Wansheng, Hua Qing had never been one to socialize much with fellow contracted artists. After all, being under the same company didn¡¯t guarantee camaraderie¡ªit often just meant competition, and sometimes the company would deliberately stir up rivalry among them. But at Starlight Entertainment, Hua Qing never hesitated to share her experience.


    She taught Yan Hui little tricks to immerse himself in a role, showed Ming Qi how to subtly avoid the camera while filming, and often joined Yu Xiangwan in warning the younger artists about the pitfalls of other agencies while singing praises of Starlight.


    Before long, Yu Hongdou joined in too.


    Hua Qing understood her perfectly. Those who had endured unscrupulous companies wanted nothing more than to see Starlight grow strong and stand tall forever.


    By the time she had mostly recovered her health, Starlight arranged an advertisement for her.


    During the shoot, the photographer couldn¡¯t stop complimenting her radiant state. He admitted he¡¯d seen some of her past photos and footage beforehand, but meeting her in person convinced him that her previous photographers simply lacked skill.


    ¡ªThough he did take every opportunity to belittle other photographers while hyping up his own expertise.


    Still, the collaboration went smoothly, and Hua Qing was thrilled¡ªnot just about her own condition, but also about contributing to the company¡¯s success.


    Yes, what had started as a simple change of employers had now become a full embrace of Starlight.


    In conversations with peers, she¡¯d proudly refer to "our Starlight" or "our Chairman Sheng Quan."


    Hua Qing finally understood why so many were so loyal to Sheng Quan, the company¡¯s chairwoman.


    And why someone like Gu Zhao¡ªwho had once clashed fiercely with Wansheng¡¯s two shareholders¡ªhad suddenly become as docile as a lamb in front of Chairman Sheng.


    Hua Qing had joined Wansheng early and remembered that Gu Zhao hadn¡¯t always been so confrontational. Back then, he¡¯d worked diligently in silence, but instead of earning his partners¡¯ respect, they¡¯d used the company¡¯s growth as leverage to force his concessions.


    After that, Gu Zhao¡¯s tactics had turned ruthlessly aggressive.


    Now, though, she felt like she was seeing the old Gu Zhao again.


    ¡ªThough she couldn¡¯t fathom his sudden obsession with gold-rimmed glasses, considering he didn¡¯t even need prescription lenses.


    In any case, Hua Qing now only wished for Starlight to live up to its name¡ªshining brightly in the sky, its light eternal.


    May the starlight endure forever.

 Chapter 29

    "So, if you''re not nearsighted, why wear glasses?"


    Sheng Quan had held back several times but finally couldn¡¯t resist asking Gu Zhao the question.


    Gu Zhao adjusted the gold-rimmed glasses on his face. Admittedly, they suited him quite well¡ªthough in a completely different way than they did Yu Xiangwan.


    Glasses of a similar style made Yu Xiangwan look like a refined rogue, but on Gu Zhao¡¯s face, they dialed up an air of restrained allure, perfectly complementing his calm tone:


    "I assumed it aligns with your aesthetic preference. Wearing them may increase your favorable impression of me and could marginally raise the likelihood of you paying more attention to the company."


    Sheng Quan: "...I knew it."


    Now she understood why Gu Zhao had been staring at Yu Xiangwan¡¯s face that day.


    Thankfully, Gu Zhao only imposed demands on himself. If Yu Xiangwan had gotten the same idea, he might¡¯ve made the entire company wear gold-rimmed glasses.


    Watching Gu Zhao push up his glasses twice in just a few sentences, she was both exasperated and amused:


    "Even if I do have that preference, there¡¯s no need to force yourself if they¡¯re uncomfortable. Non-nearsighted people wearing plain lenses can cause eye strain¡ªwhy bother?"


    Gu Zhao remained unflappable. "I¡¯m not uncomfortable. It¡¯s merely a minor adjustment period."


    Sheng Quan: "Let me remind you, it¡¯s been three days. You still haven¡¯t adjusted."


    Gu Zhao had his own logic: "No need for concern. The human adaptation period typically lasts fewer than thirty days. In twenty-seven more days, I¡¯ll be fully accustomed."


    As he finished, he adjusted his glasses again.


    Sheng Quan gave up arguing. Gu Zhao operated on his own internal reasoning¡ªtrying to debate him would only trap her in circles.


    She simply held out her hand. "Give them to me."


    Gu Zhao hesitated for two seconds before reluctantly removing the glasses and placing them in her palm.


    Once they were surrendered, he sat stiffly, lips pressed into a thin line. Sheng Quan, familiar with his mannerisms, knew this wasn¡¯t displeasure but his "thinking mode." She tucked the glasses away and asked, "What¡¯s on your mind?"


    "I¡¯m contemplating how to ensure you always choose me."


    Sheng Quan: "Wait¡ªwhat choice?"


    Gu Zhao lifted his gaze, his pale gray eyes locking onto hers:


    "Most employees in the company were handpicked by you. But not me. I merely happened to meet your criteria for COO, happened to be introduced by Wang Zhengzheng. Even if it weren¡¯t me, you would¡¯ve chosen someone else."


    "You seem to inherently trust them, but not me. You trust Executive Producer Yu more than me. Even Jin Jiu¡ªyou developed trust in him almost instantly. Beyond their appearances, I can¡¯t discern why you¡¯d so readily place faith in them. So, the only option left to me is to emulate their looks."


    His tone stayed matter-of-fact as he laid out his thoughts: "I hope you¡¯ll grant me the same level of trust. That¡¯s important to me."


    Sheng Quan: "..."


    This guy really did study psychology.


    She did have innate trust in the others¡ªbecause she knew their personalities, histories, and even their fates. Even Hua Qing and Liu Zi''an with Ming Qi had appeared briefly in the original novel.


    But Gu Zhao hadn¡¯t. She¡¯d scoured her memory but found no mention of his name. Though there was one line in the book: a character visiting the hospital saw a strikingly handsome mixed-race man being wheeled off an ambulance.


    He¡¯d reportedly drunk himself to death during a business negotiation.


    The character sighed about life¡¯s hardships and vowed to quit drinking.


    Sheng Quan suspected that man was Gu Zhao.


    Not even granted a name in the story, he¡¯d met a tragic end.


    Now, this same workaholic CEO who should¡¯ve died from overexertion was patiently awaiting her response.


    Staring into his earnest eyes, she couldn¡¯t exactly say, *"Because you died early, so I never got the chance to trust you in the novel."*


    Sheng Quan: "I don¡¯t know why you think I wouldn¡¯t choose you."


    She counted off on her fingers: "Your education, your skills, your experience, and your dedication to the company¡ªI truly believe no one could outperform you in this role."


    Gu Zhao replied flatly, "I once thought the same. Then Chen Xuanzheng and He Qi selected a completely incompetent fool and tried to replace me with him."


    Sheng Quan recalled the two men who¡¯d shown up with apology gifts days earlier: "Were they really that stupid? What was their reason for choosing that guy?"


    "He¡¯s Chen Xuanzheng¡¯s brother-in-law and He Qi¡¯s wife¡¯s younger brother."


    Sheng Quan had an epiphany.


    She immediately reassured him: "Rest easy¡ªI have no sisters, no wife, and my IQ is perfectly normal. Even if Mars collided with Earth, I¡¯d never irrationally try to replace you."


    Channeling her past-life boss, she grasped Gu Zhao¡¯s hand solemnly: "I do trust and like them, but that¡¯s different from how I trust *you*."


    "Gu Zhao, you¡¯re the best partner I¡¯ve ever worked with."


    (Though he was currently her only partner, it was still the truth.)


    A employee this devoted to the company? She¡¯d have to be insane not to trust him.


    She genuinely couldn¡¯t fathom what those two idiots at Wansheng had been thinking. If her former boss had had someone like Gu Zhao, he¡¯d have enshrined him¡ªlet alone replacing him, he¡¯d have moved mountains to keep him from leaving.


    Sheng Quan spoke in a rush:


    "Handing most company matters to you isn¡¯t because I¡¯m uninvolved¡ªit¡¯s because I believe the company will thrive under your leadership. I¡¯m beyond grateful to have a COO like you steering the ship, and I hope we can work together to make Xingmang a global leader."


    The words were sincere, but afterward, she wondered if they sounded overly sentimental¡ªor worse, like corporate-speak.


    Would Gu Zhao think she was feeding him empty promises?


    But when she glanced at him, his long lashes trembled slightly, his pale gray eyes wide and dazed, as if utterly moved.


    For someone as expressionless as Gu Zhao, this was practically an emotional outburst.


    Sheng Quan: ?


    The robot-like Gu Zhao actually *liked* compliments?


    Indeed he did.


    The proof? His ears turned red.


    One might¡¯ve thought she¡¯d showered him with an 800-word tribute, when all she¡¯d done was state facts.


    "Thank you."


    It took Gu Zhao a full ten seconds to respond, his voice slightly hoarse: "I won¡¯t betray your trust. Now or in the future, I¡¯ll remain your most steadfast support."


    Unaccustomed to such declarations, he averted his eyes awkwardly afterward, pulling open a drawer and sliding a box toward her.


    "This is for you."


    He thought for a moment, then added, "I went to a physical store to have it customized. It should suit you well."


    Sheng Quan was quite surprised, with a hint of delight: "Thank you."


    To think, Gu Zhao usually bought daily necessities online just to devote more time to work¡ªeven unpacking deliveries was left to his assistant.


    Even when buying clothes, staff from boutiques would come to take his measurements, and the finished custom pieces would be delivered to him.


    For someone like Gu Zhao to visit a physical store just to buy her a gift was, by his standards, an exceptionally thoughtful gesture.


    No wonder those two from Wansheng were idiots. How could they fail to appreciate someone as remarkable as Gu Zhao? No wonder their company was doomed.


    Sheng Quan was in high spirits as she smiled and opened the box¡ªonly for her grin to freeze.


    "Is this... a company seal case?"


    Gu Zhao seemed rather proud of his gift. He pointed at the top with emphasis: "There are diamonds here too."


    Sheng Quan stared at the sparkling diamond embedded in the seal case she now held.


    It was undoubtedly a real diamond, and judging by its size, it couldn¡¯t have been cheap. Though Gu Zhao wasn¡¯t swimming in wealth, he certainly had no shortage of "small money," so the price wouldn¡¯t have been an issue for him.


    It¡¯s just that she never imagined she¡¯d receive a "diamond-encrusted company seal case" as a gift in her lifetime.


    No wonder it had to be custom-made. While a company seal case could be replaced as long as the seal itself remained intact, who in their right mind would bedazzle one with diamonds?


    Glancing at Gu Zhao, who appeared confident in his choice, Sheng Quan could only smile and accept it graciously: "Thank you, I love it."


    Regardless, it was Gu Zhao¡¯s thoughtful gesture. And for someone whose mind revolved entirely around work, the importance of a company seal was self-evident.


    By giving her this, he must have taken a page from Yu Xiangwan¡¯s book¡ªcombining something he valued deeply with something he thought she¡¯d like.


    Come to think of it, a diamond-studded seal case did sound pretty cool.


    Seeing Sheng Quan accept it with a smile and even mention swapping her seal into it, Gu Zhao¡¯s stiff posture relaxed slightly. His expression remained as composed as ever:


    "As long as you like it."


    Once Sheng Quan left, he returned to work, typing away until a message popped up on his messaging app.


    **Sheng Quan**: *[It¡¯s all set up now¡ªso shiny and dazzling! Thanks! I¡¯m going to post it on Weibo to show off the gifts you all gave me.]*


    After replying earnestly, Gu Zhao opened Weibo.


    His phone had all the necessary apps, though he rarely opened most of them.


    Gu Zhao¡¯s account name was a random string of system-generated characters. He clicked on his "Following" list¡ªwhich consisted of only Sheng Quan.


    **Sheng Quan**: *Two incredibly talented friends gave me these gifts. Though they weren¡¯t given at the same time, they look perfect together! Love them!*


    Attached was a photo: a diamond hairpin and the diamond-encrusted seal case, now housing her company seal.


    Sheng Quan¡¯s fame rivaled that of a celebrity, so within a minute of posting, the comments were already flooding in.


    **[Ahhhh! Wife! I¡¯m here!]**


    **[Is this how the rich live? Even gifts come with diamonds!]**


    **[So shiny!!! It blinded me¡ªI¡¯ve fallen and can¡¯t get up unless my dear Quan helps me!]**


    **[So beautiful!!!]**


    **[Pretty? That¡¯s just money transformed (dog emoji).]**


    **[The wealthy even have diamond hairpins!]**


    **[More than that! The rich even bedazzle their company seals with diamonds!!!]**


    Gu Zhao had never been one to linger on platforms like Weibo. He considered fragmented information detrimental to focus, productivity, and a waste of time.


    But today, he scrolled slowly, reading for a long, long while.


    Suddenly, he remembered the previous winter.


    He had overheard his two business partners talking¡ªabout him.


    *¡ª"What a freak. Gave me a gold-engraved company seal case as a ¡®gift.¡¯"*


    *¡ª"Does he actually think we¡¯re friends? Ugh, who¡¯d want to get close to someone like him? So cold and off-putting. Just thinking about him kills my appetite. Oh, what did you do with that seal case?"*


    *¡ª"Of course I¡¯m using it. Let him see it and feel pleased. But now that the company¡¯s this big, we don¡¯t need him anymore. The only problem is his shares¡ªwe never should¡¯ve given him any. Anyway, later we¡¯ll¡ª Gu Zhao?! When did you get here?!"*


    *"Give it back."*


    *¡ª"W-what?"*


    *"The gift I gave you. Return it."*


    Not long after, Gu Zhao dealt a heavy blow to his two partners and left Wansheng alone.


    Why would a brilliant genius start a company with two far less capable partners? Given his talents, he could have easily sought investors with deeper pockets, stronger foundations, and more experience.


    Perhaps it was because, at one point, he had thought they were friends.


    ****


    After admiring her gifts with satisfaction, Sheng Quan turned her attention to counting her earnings.


    Jin Jiu¡¯s favorability had long surpassed 80, and his career progress had skyrocketed to 37.


    A single performance, seven years of dedication, and his own talent had propelled the once-unknown Jin Jiu to immense popularity, instantly surpassing Yan Hui, whose career progress had just reached 20 thanks to Yuan Zixin¡¯s efforts.


    That wasn¡¯t to say Yan Hui was inferior¡ªtheir professions simply differed. Yan Hui was an actor, and his projects hadn¡¯t yet entered their promotional phase, while Jin Jiu, as a singer, could win over audiences the moment he stepped on stage.


    Sheng Quan wasn¡¯t worried in the slightest.


    Slow and steady wins the race.


    After all, the rewards from those she sponsored weren¡¯t a one-time payout¡ªthey accrued monthly.


    Meaning, not only did Jin Jiu bring her financial and longevity returns, but Yan Hui¡¯s rising career progress also contributed.


    **[Settlement complete.]** 006 tallied the results: **[Feedback funds: 60 million.]**


    **[Host¡¯s remaining lifespan: 3 months and 5 days.]**


    Sheng Quan narrowed her eyes slightly: **[Seems like lifespan increases mainly depend on career progress.]**


    Both Yan Hui and Jin Jiu¡¯s favorability had exceeded 80%. Since the system stopped announcing exact figures beyond that, she didn¡¯t know by how much. But in both cases, the added lifespan had been negligible.


    A career progress of 37 had only bought her three more months.


    Though monthly increments would surely push their progress even higher¡ªand the higher it climbed, the greater the lifespan multiplier seemed to be¡ªthat was a matter for the future.


    Right now, three months wasn¡¯t nearly enough security.


    Having made up her mind, Sheng Quan said to 006: **[I want to go big.]**


    006 instantly replied: **[I support you!]**


    Then, remembering to ask: **[How does the host plan to go big?]**


    Sheng Quan: **[I need to find someone whose career can skyrocket in the shortest time possible.]**


    Neither Yan Hui nor Jin Jiu¡¯s professions allowed their career progress to shoot past 80% overnight. A 46-year-old Jin Jiu might have managed it. A 40-something Yan Hui might have too. But right now, their younger selves still needed to build their success step by step.


    So what profession can help someone quickly climb the career ladder?


    Sheng Quan pondered this question for several days, and by then, System 006 had already released new mission funds.


    This time, the amount wasn¡¯t as exaggerated. After all, the previous billion yuan had been constrained by online limitations. This time, it was just a modest 40 million¡ªnothing extraordinary.


    But with these 40 million added to the funds she¡¯d already earned back, Sheng Quan had a total of 100 million at her disposal. Still an impressive sum that would turn heads no matter where she spent it.


    She wasn¡¯t in a hurry to pick a beneficiary. Instead, she started extensively researching professions¡ªpreferably those with some connection to the entertainment industry. After all, as a transmigrator, that was her biggest advantage.


    Chairman Sheng was busy.


    She brainstormed while soaking in the hot springs, snacking, swimming in her private pool, getting massages, and even during her spa sessions.


    On the fifth day, as she ate, her phone suddenly rang.


    She glanced at the caller ID¡ªLin Aike.


    Ah, right. Yu Xiangwan had mentioned Lin was wrapping up filming soon. This was probably a courtesy call to celebrate the wrap.


    They absolutely had to grab a meal and go shopping together.


    In high spirits, Sheng Quan answered the call, only to hear Lin Aike¡¯s frantic, tearful voice on the other end:


    "Chairman Sheng, I¡¯m at Room 1195 of the Ronghui Hotel in Modu. Please, help me! The company¡¯s line won¡¯t pick up¡ªthey¡¯re doing this on purpose. They sold me out. I don¡¯t dare call the police. If paparazzi catch wind of this, they¡¯ll twist the story. You¡¯re the only one I can turn to, Chairman Sheng..."


    Outside, the towering bodyguard on duty suddenly heard Chairman Sheng let out a furious curse.


    In all his time working for her, he¡¯d only heard her swear like that when her favorite drama character died.


    Clearly, this wasn¡¯t about a TV show.


    Because the next moment, Sheng Quan stormed out, her expression icy and her strides full of purpose. "To the Ronghui Hotel."


    She turned to her driver. "Brother Jiang, do you have any tight-lipped colleagues? I need to hire them to back me up."


    Driver Jiang Lu, seated behind the wheel, glanced back at her. "Miss Sheng, brawling is illegal."


    "I know. It¡¯s just for intimidation." Though furious, Sheng Quan hadn¡¯t lost her composure. "These people prey on the weak. Once I show up, they¡¯ll probably back off."


    Of course, it didn¡¯t hurt to prepare for the worst.


    Hence, the backup plan.


    Better safe than sorry.


    After confirming Sheng Quan was serious, Jiang Lu pulled out his phone. "It¡¯s short notice, so I might not get many people. But I¡¯ll try."


    Half an hour later...


    Sheng Quan stared at the group of at least a dozen burly men gathered outside the Ronghui Hotel and fell silent for two seconds.


    One of them even carried a bag, which he handed to Jiang Lu. Jiang passed it to Sheng Quan and whispered, "Some women¡¯s clothes."


    "...Thank you. Triple reimbursement after this is settled."


    She¡¯d been in such a hurry that she hadn¡¯t thought of this. Thank goodness Jiang Lu had.


    Driver Jiang¡ªalways reliable.


    Hotel staff had already noticed the commotion and approached to inquire. Before Sheng Quan could respond, Jiang Lu smoothly stepped forward. Whatever he said made them hesitate before reluctantly stepping aside.


    Once in the elevator, Sheng Quan asked, "What did you tell them?"


    Jiang Lu replied solemnly, "I said we were here to catch a cheating spouse¡ªa domestic issue we¡¯d handle ourselves."


    "Most hotels avoid trouble. As long as guests don¡¯t call the cops or break anything, they usually stay out of it. At most, they¡¯ll gossip later."


    Then, as if suddenly remembering he worked for Junyue Hotel, he added, "But that¡¯s just ordinary hotels. You can rest assured about Junyue¡¯s privacy and security."


    Sheng Quan smirked. "Oh, I¡¯m plenty assured¡ªespecially with you around."


    This wasn¡¯t just a driver. He was a full-fledged bodyguard.


    Room 1195 was a suite, just as Lin Aike had described.


    At the door, Jiang Lu signaled for the others to stay back. The group expertly positioned themselves out of the peephole¡¯s view, while he knocked.


    A rough, impatient voice barked from inside, "Who is it?!"


    Jiang Lu¡¯s voice was usually deep, but somehow, he effortlessly lightened his tone. "Hello, we found Miss Lin¡¯s phone. Someone¡¯s been calling her, so we brought it back right away."


    There was a pause. Two seconds later, the door cracked open.


    The moment the man¡¯s head appeared, Jiang Lu shoved the door wide open. The group surged in, and once Sheng Quan entered, he swiftly closed the door behind them.


    The scene inside was clear: three men in the living room¡ªone middle-aged and two scrawny bodyguards¡ªalong with a camera setup.


    The two bodyguards were trying to break down a bedroom door, which showed signs of being kicked in. But they hadn¡¯t come out unscathed¡ªtheir faces were scratched, and one was bleeding from the head, likely from a well-aimed vase, judging by the shattered pieces on the floor.


    Sheng Quan exhaled in relief.


    Even though she¡¯d stayed on the line with Lin Aike, seeing her safe with her own eyes was a whole different reassurance.


    The middle-aged man, clearly drunk, gaped at the sudden crowd of brawny men before zeroing in on Sheng Quan¡ªthe only one who didn¡¯t look like a fighter.


    He staggered forward, slurring, "What the hell? A robbery? In broad daylight¡ª"


    His hand barely touched Sheng Quan¡¯s shoulder when she was about to deliver a knee to his family jewels¡ª


    But Jiang Lu was faster. A single brutal kick sent the man flying a meter back, crashing to the floor.


    The impact miraculously sobered him up. Instantly grasping the situation, he groaned and whimpered, "I surrender! I didn¡¯t do anything! I was just scaring them!"


    Sheng Quan raised an eyebrow at Jiang Lu. "I thought you said this was illegal?"


    Jiang Lu calmly straightened. "It¡¯s not illegal."


    "It¡¯s called being a hero."

 Chapter 30

    Sheng Quan had heard about some unbelievable cases in the entertainment industry in her past life.


    But those cases mostly happened so long ago that they felt like they¡¯d never happen again.


    True, the entertainment industry today is still chaotic, but what unfolded before Sheng Quan¡¯s eyes was a world where everyone seemed to abide by the principle of "not breaking the law." They might take advantage of others, engage in under-the-table deals, or pressure people into ruin¡ªbut no one dared to act outright brazenly.


    Yet there are always exceptions. In a world filled with all sorts of people, some delusional, law-flouting narcissists inevitably crawl out of the woodwork.


    Sheng Quan knocked on the tightly shut door: "Aike, it¡¯s alright now. Come out."


    There was a pause before sounds of something being moved came from inside¡ªprobably the barricade they¡¯d used to block the door. After about two minutes, the door slowly opened, and Lin Aike peeked out. Sheng Quan handed her a bag of clothes:


    "Change into these first."


    Lin Aike whispered her thanks.


    A short while later, Lin Aike emerged, now dressed, accompanied by a strikingly beautiful woman. Both had traces of blood under their fingernails¡ªlikely the source of the scratches on the two bodyguards¡¯ faces.


    Though they had clearly tried to tidy themselves up, their hair was still disheveled.


    Lin Aike¡¯s eyes were still slightly red, but the moment she stepped out and saw the middle-aged man lying on the floor, her gaze burned with hatred. She snatched an intact vase nearby and lunged forward.


    The two scrawny bodyguards stood frozen in fear, not daring to move a muscle. Forget helping their boss¡ªif not for the group of burly men blocking the exit, they might¡¯ve already bolted.


    Lin Aike was pulled back by the woman beside her, who said, "He¡¯s already stopped committing the crime. Hitting him now would be illegal."


    Hearing this, the man on the floor, who had been panicking, immediately nodded frantically, as if grasping at a lifeline: "Y-yes, yes! If you hit me now, that¡¯s against the law!"


    A man who had just committed a crime now suddenly knew how to use the law to protect himself.


    Sheng Quan sneered but quickly composed herself. She turned her head toward Jiang Lu, her tone laced with meaning:


    "Against the law, huh... Brother Jiang, tell me¡ªif no one reports it, does a crime still count as a crime?"


    Jiang Lu glanced at Sheng Quan and nodded, then fixed his gaze on the middle-aged man, his voice dropping into something cold and sinister:


    "Don¡¯t worry. I doubt he¡¯ll be reporting anything."


    The man shuddered, his eyes widening in terror: "Y-you... what are you going to do?!"


    With that tone, in this situation, and with the dozen or so intimidating men behind Sheng Quan, it was hard not to think of... silencing witnesses.


    What kind of person walked around with this many bodyguards¡ªeach looking battle-hardened and rigorously trained?


    Just as his panic reached its peak, the beautiful woman who had been smirking at him waved her hand.


    A tall, sharp-eyed man¡ªwho looked like he could take on ten of him¡ªstepped forward, each stride deliberate, as if calculating where to strike first.


    The man scrambled backward, but Jiang Lu closed the distance in two steps.


    Kneeling down, Jiang Lu stared at the terrified man and suddenly asked:


    "Do you like the ocean?"


    The! Ocean! Dumping! Bodies!


    These people¡ªthese people were part of the underworld!


    The man trembled violently. He could barely speak: "N-no... please... I¡¯ll never do it again, I swear¡ª"


    Jiang Lu ignored his pleas and continued slowly:


    "People love looking at the surface, but you know what? I go diving a lot. The seabed is actually much more beautiful. You find all sorts of things down there that you¡¯d never see above water."


    The man¡¯s mind flooded with images of weighted crates sinking into the abyss.


    "AHHH¡ª!!!"


    He was utterly petrified. Forgetting his fear of Jiang Lu, he crawled frantically toward Sheng Quan, kowtowing desperately:


    "I remember now! Sheng Quan¡ªno, Miss Sheng! Miss Sheng, I was wrong! I beg you¡ªI have a family, I was just confused! It wasn¡¯t me¡ªit was President Lou from Zeng Wang! He said Lin Aike was getting too defiant after her rise to fame, told me to take compromising photos to control her!"


    "Miss Sheng, please¡ªplease don¡¯t kill me! I know I messed up, it was Lou Yihang¡¯s idea! Go after him, please¡ª!"


    Sheng Quan took a step back in disgust, her tone lazy: "What are you talking about? I¡¯d never kill anyone."


    She patted Lin Aike¡¯s slightly trembling hand reassuringly, then looked down at the disheveled man. Just as he began to relax, she added coolly:


    "Brother Jiang, he¡¯s all yours."


    "Take him where he belongs. Oh, and those two accomplices¡ªsend them off together."


    S-send them off?!!!


    The man looked as if he¡¯d been struck by lightning.


    The two bodyguards, who had been trying to make themselves as small as possible behind a vase, stiffened. They tried to bolt, but the men at the door easily restrained them.


    They thrashed wildly, but there was no escaping these guys. Gagged and dragged downstairs, they struggled and pleaded the entire way.


    Strangely, though the hotel lobby was full of staff, no one lifted a finger to help. Some even gathered to watch.


    In broad daylight, under the rule of law¡ªhow could people be so cold? Was this even still China?


    Sheng Quan had only brought one car, so the rest of the group hailed taxis outside. After flagging one down, Jiang Lu turned and shoved the bound man inside.


    The guy somehow managed to spit out his gag and screamed at the taxi driver like a drowning man clutching at straws:


    "They¡¯re mafia! They¡¯re going to kill me! Call the police¡ªquick, get the police! I¡¯ll pay you! I¡¯ll pay anything!"


    To his horror, the driver didn¡¯t even blink. At a red light, he turned around and said:


    "Stop yelling. You¡¯re being noisy. You think I¡¯m stupid? Like I¡¯d let you go? What, you think I¡¯m a kid or an idiot?"


    He even said to Jiang Lu: "Hey, buddy, gag him properly. Don¡¯t let him distract me while I¡¯m driving."


    In that moment, the man felt his blood run cold.


    Even the taxi driver was one of them.


    Of course¡ªSheng Quan had bought the Huaxing Building, donated 100 million like it was nothing. Her influence was terrifying.


    He went limp like a wet noodle.


    There was no escape. None.


    In all of China, how could someone like her operate with such impunity?


    Sheng Quan... just who was she?


    ¡ª¡ª"I¡¯m a law-abiding, upstanding citizen."


    Sheng Quan was now at the police station, speaking to an officer:


    "But given the nature of my work, privacy is a concern. We couldn¡¯t report it at the hotel, so we came straight here. Yes, my friends are bringing those three in another car. They¡¯ll be here any minute."


    Just as they were speaking, the taxi pulled up in front of the police station. Jiang Lu stepped out, dragging the middle-aged man who was tightly bound with ropes. He held the man at arm''s length¡ªa stance that allowed him to maintain control while keeping a safe distance.


    Sheng Quan moved forward to greet him, but Jiang Lu took a step back with the man in tow. "Don¡¯t come too close," he warned. "He wet himself."


    Hearing this, the police officers who had rushed out hesitated for a split second. But the next moment, they bravely stepped forward to take custody of the suspect¡ªwhile carefully avoiding the damp patches on his pants.


    ***


    "They were trying to kill me! They said they¡¯d dump my body in the sea!"


    ¡ª"I mentioned I like diving during a casual conversation. Who knew he¡¯d take it so literally? We came straight to the police station from the hotel."


    "He beat me up! I swear at least three of my ribs are broken!"


    ¡ª"He tried to attack my employer after we stopped his crime, so I pushed him away. If he insists on making claims, let¡¯s get a medical exam. I guarantee there¡¯s not even a scratch on him."


    "That hotel, and the taxi driver¡ªthey were all in on it! They¡¯re accomplices! And Sheng Quan! She told that tall guy to ''send us on our way''! You hear that? ''On our way''!"


    ¡ª"My employer only instructed us to escort them to the police station. As for the hotel, yes, we did coordinate with them¡ªbecause the incident happened there, so we asked the manager to come as a witness. The taxi driver? I don¡¯t even know him. When he found out we were delivering a criminal to the station, he even praised us for doing the right thing."


    The police officers weren¡¯t blind¡ªthey could tell Sheng Quan and her group had deliberately frightened the man.


    But objectively, all they¡¯d done was chat, and while some of their words might¡¯ve been ambiguously phrased, they hadn¡¯t actually harmed him. Even his claims of being beaten only amounted to minor redness upon inspection.


    Sure, the officers suspected Jiang Lu had the skills to inflict excruciating pain without leaving marks¡ªbut there was simply no evidence to prove it. Even if this went to court, Sheng Quan and her team wouldn¡¯t face consequences.


    Besides, the suspects¡¯ crimes were so vile that anyone would want to throttle them. As friends of the victim, a little scare within legal limits? Understandable.


    So in the end, the officers simply advised gently:


    "Next time something like this happens, try to avoid ambiguous phrasing. If the suspect takes it seriously, they might try to jump out a window or off a moving car to escape. You meant well, but complications could arise."


    Of course, Sheng Quan didn¡¯t say, *"With so many of us surrounding him, he wouldn¡¯t have a chance to even try."* Instead, she nodded obediently. "Understood. Thank you, officers."


    "Good. Your friend¡¯s out now¡ªgo comfort her."


    Lin Aike didn¡¯t actually need comforting anymore.


    At first, she *had* been terrified. More than the fear of assault, she¡¯d been paralyzed by the thought of her career being destroyed in an instant.


    Her first instinct had been to call the police, but as her finger hovered over the dial button, hesitation set in. Once officers arrived in such a public place, even without paparazzi, bystanders would record everything. If the incident spread that way, her career would be over¡ªregardless of whether she was at fault.


    Then she remembered Sheng Quan.


    Back when Sheng Quan was still on set, she¡¯d told Lin Aike to reach out if she ever needed help.


    Even after Sheng Quan rushed over and stayed on the phone with her, Lin Aike¡¯s heart had been drowning in despair and rage.


    Then, abruptly, those emotions were eclipsed by a new panic.


    As they descended the hotel stairs, her mind spiraled:


    *"My wealthy friend is about to commit murder for me."*


    *"How do I stop her from staining her hands with this trash¡¯s blood?"*


    Lin Aike had been completely stunned.


    Her thought process went something like this:


    *"President Sheng loves me this much?"*


    *"She¡¯s willing to kill for me."*


    *"But murder is illegal."*


    *"Yet she¡¯s doing it for me¡ªshe really loves me."*


    *"No, no, it¡¯s still a crime! I can¡¯t let her go to prison because of me!"*


    Sheng Quan had mistaken her trembling hands for lingering fear.


    In reality, Lin Aike was shaking because she was terrified Sheng Quan would *"throw away everything for love"* and cross a line of no return.


    A scumbag like that wasn¡¯t worth a second thought¡ªbut President Sheng couldn¡¯t commit a crime for her sake!


    So Lin Aike¡¯s earlier despair and terror vanished, replaced by sheer urgency to make Sheng Quan *stop*.


    In the car, her voice quivering with tears, she finally managed to say:


    "I know you¡¯re doing this to avenge me, but it¡¯s illegal. If you¡¯re caught, you¡¯ll go to prison. Can we... *not* kill him, please?"


    The car fell silent for a second.


    Then the two girls beside her burst into laughter.


    Sheng Quan nearly doubled over, clutching her stomach. "HAHAHAHA¡ªso *that¡¯s* why you¡¯ve been so quiet! You actually thought I¡¯d kill him? Oh my god, do you think I¡¯m some kind of mafia princess or something?"


    Their new friend, equally beautiful and now laughing so hard she could barely sit straight, added:


    "HAHAHAHA¡ªso *that¡¯s* what that conflicted look was about! It was *obviously* just a scare tactic!"


    And just like that, Lin Aike was mercilessly teased for the entire ride.


    All her earlier anguish, despair, and helplessness evaporated.


    If possible, she would¡¯ve dug a hole in the ground and disappeared.


    ***


    While the police investigated the case¡ªunraveling a whole network of connections and exposing an underground "trade chain"¡ªSheng Quan and Lin Aike gained a new friend.


    Xu Man.


    Despite her striking beauty, she was actually a director.


    She hadn¡¯t even known Lin Aike before that night. She¡¯d simply been staying at the same hotel, stepping out to pick up a food delivery when she spotted a dazed Lin Aike being dragged toward a room. Sensing trouble, Xu Man tried to call the police¡ªbut the men noticed and snatched her phone.


    They forced her into the room too.


    So she smashed a vase over one of their heads.


    Armed with broken shards, she slashed at anyone who came near. When Lin Aike, still groggy, managed to rise and join the fight, the two of them went berserk¡ªattacking with everything they had.


    Two against three was already a losing battle, especially with the physical disadvantage. Lin Aike was still drugged, and both women¡¯s clothes were torn to shreds. But their sheer ferocity bought them enough time to barricade themselves inside the bathroom.


    Recounting the ordeal later, Lin Aike shuddered with lingering fear and gratitude.


    "If it weren¡¯t for you, I wouldn¡¯t have woken up in time."


    Xu Man looked every bit the elegant, intellectual beauty¡ªbut beneath that exterior, she had the same bold, righteous streak as Yuan Zixin. The kind of person who¡¯d step in without hesitation when she saw injustice.


    She waved her hand dismissively: ¡°It¡¯s nothing. Even if it weren¡¯t you, I¡¯d have helped anyone in that situation. Though next time, I¡¯ll remember to retreat to my room before calling the police. Those scumbags¡ªI¡¯ve trained for this. The hotel just didn¡¯t have the right tools. Those chairs were bolted to the floor. If I¡¯d gotten my hands on a proper weapon, who¡¯s to say who¡¯d have won?¡±


    Sheng Quan quietly munched on an apple beside her.


    She believed Xu Man¡¯s words.


    Xu Man¡ªa prodigious director, a fleeting figure in the story.


    Her fleeting presence wasn¡¯t because her works were short-lived, but because, during a late-night snack run, she was cornered by a group of men who coveted her beauty.


    ¡ªXu Man grabbed a chair and fought five men in a chaotic brawl.


    In the end, three of the men died, two were severely injured, and she herself succumbed to an infected wound.


    After reading that part of the plot, Sheng Quan immediately signed up for a gym membership.


    Then, thanks to constant overtime, she only went three or five times the entire year.


    Meanwhile, Xu Man was still chattering away:


    ¡°I¡¯d recommend you pick up some martial arts too. Natural stamina is hard to change, but we can compensate with weapons. Next time something like this happens, at least you¡¯ll have a fighting chance.¡±


    ¡°Ah, gotta go¡ªI¡¯ve got a meeting with that Director Liu. Let¡¯s see if I can convince him to invest. Ugh, these investors¡ªthey throw money at projects but always insist on stuffing their people into the cast. Fine, but at least pick someone decent! No acting skills, and on top of that, they¡¯re ugly. When will their taste align with normal human standards?¡±


    Sheng Quan caught her arm.


    The ethereal-looking Xu Man turned, puzzled. ¡°What¡¯s up?¡±


    Sheng Quan swallowed her bite of apple. ¡°I¡¯m normal.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯ll invest in you. No meddling with the crew, no forced casting. Just tell me¡ªhow much do you need?¡±


    Xu Man: ¡°...¡±


    By her own account.


    At that moment, she saw light.


    The golden, shimmering kind.

 Chapter 31

    Xu Man was desperately short on money.


    Even though she had produced an impressive work during her college years, and the three films she directed after graduation had all been well-received¡ªmaking her a rising star in the director''s circle¡ªwhile other directors struggled to secure investments of a few hundred thousand, she had no shortage of backers willing to pour in millions or even tens of millions.


    Yet, she was still broke.


    Because the project she wanted to shoot next was a xianxia film.


    And if a xianxia film was to achieve the desired visual impact, it required money¡ªlots and lots of money.


    Just her vision of "shooting at least 70% of the scenes on real locations" alone was a financial black hole. And real locations didn¡¯t mean fewer special effects¡ªin fact, given the genre, the demand for CGI was even greater.


    Despite Xu Man¡¯s solid track record, those with deep pockets didn¡¯t have faith in her, and those who did couldn¡¯t afford to back her ambition.


    In this world, Chinese xianxia had fallen out of favor, at least in the film industry. Even during its golden age, it had mostly thrived in TV dramas rather than on the big screen.


    Most investors weren¡¯t big risk-takers. They preferred safe bets over gambling.


    If Xu Man had been making a comedy or another suspense-horror film¡ªher usual forte¡ªsecuring a hefty budget wouldn¡¯t have been an issue. But xianxia? It was like trying to build a skyscraper on flat ground.


    Xu Man could only sigh at such skepticism. "I¡¯m not just good at suspense-horror¡ªI¡¯m good at a lot of things. I just happened to make two films in that genre before."


    She might seem carefree on the surface, but at heart, she was still a director. Like Wan Bao, she wanted nothing but the best for her work¡ªbetter, and then even better. Compromise wasn¡¯t in her vocabulary.


    To scrape together funding, Xu Man had already endured too much humiliation. At the time, it might¡¯ve seemed bearable, but looking back, it was nothing short of heartbreaking:


    "Standing while others ate, forcing a smile when ignored, drinking until I threw up¡ªnone of that even mattered. But then there were those *ssholes who tried to proposition me, saying they¡¯d invest if I slept with them. Ugh! As if I¡¯d ever lower myself to that!"


    Drunk and emotional, Xu Man vented her frustrations before clutching a wine bottle and bursting into tears:


    "I don¡¯t want to settle for less! It deserves to be grander, more spectacular! If only I could make it the way I envision it, the whole country¡ªno, the entire world¡ªwould see how incredible Chinese xianxia can be!"


    Sheng Quan knew her words weren¡¯t just empty dreams.


    In the original story, Xu Man had been forced to cut corners due to budget constraints. Though the film became a massive hit upon release, even gaining traction overseas, the shoddy special effects, cheap costumes, and lackluster props gave foreign media an excuse to mock Chinese cinema as "backward."


    That criticism became a thorn in Xu Man¡¯s heart.


    She knew¡ªthis film could have outshone every international release of its time. But without enough money, it ended up a half-baked spectacle.


    Xu Man swore she would one day make a film that would stun the world, proving that China was more than capable of setting global cinematic trends.


    But before she could realize that ambition, tragedy struck, and she passed away.


    Now, the still-living Xu Man sat with her face flushed from alcohol, her glassy eyes fixed intently on Sheng Quan. After several clumsy attempts, she finally managed to grab Sheng Quan¡¯s hand:


    "Do you believe in me? Or are you just investing because of my looks? Or... because we¡¯re friends? God, I can¡¯t believe I have a friend this rich. I wouldn¡¯t even dare dream of this."


    The drunken beauty clung to her hand, whining sweetly, and Sheng Quan felt like she was floating on cloud nine.


    She shamelessly admired Xu Man¡¯s beauty, but her business-minded side remained intact:


    "I believe in you. Just focus on making the film¡ªdon¡¯t worry about the money."


    Xu Man still seemed dazed. "Are you sure? It¡¯ll cost at least 100 million¡ªand that¡¯s the bare minimum. You¡¯re really sure?"


    Seeing her swaying unsteadily while still trying to calculate expenses, Sheng Quan steadied her. "Yes, I¡¯m sure. Don¡¯t worry about it."


    "Alright, no more drinking. Time for bed¡ªwe¡¯ve got contracts to sign tomorrow."


    Xu Man had always been beautiful, and over the years, she¡¯d faced her share of unwanted advances. That was why she never allowed herself to get drunk in unfamiliar settings. But this time, with Sheng Quan beside her, she let herself down glass after glass without a second thought.


    The moment Sheng Quan mentioned sleep, her eyes fluttered shut, and she passed out almost instantly.


    The next morning¡ª


    Xu Man woke up in confusion, blinking at the unfamiliar surroundings.


    A hotel?


    She bolted upright, her first instinct being to check her own body.


    "Awake?"


    Sheng Quan, who had been gaming in the living room, walked in at the sound of movement. "Get up. We¡¯ve got contracts to sign today."


    At the sight of Sheng Quan, Xu Man relaxed¡ªthen froze. "Contracts? What contracts?"


    "For investing in your xianxia film. Did you black out last night?"


    Xu Man¡¯s eyes widened. "A hundred million?!"


    Sheng Quan nodded. "Yep. Minimum."


    Xu Man: "...Why does she make it sound like she¡¯s buying a cabbage?"


    Then it hit her¡ªSheng Quan had recently splurged 100 million on a singer.


    She really had that kind of money!!


    It finally dawned on Xu Man:


    She¡ªshe¡ªshe¡ªhad just landed herself a sugar mommy!!!


    ***


    [Bound Beneficiary: Xu Man]


    006 was no longer the naive, inexperienced system it had once been. It had learned a lot¡ªfor example, just how long film production could take:


    [Host, movie shoots take ages. If you¡¯re binding Xu Man, the career feedback that extends your lifespan won¡¯t come quickly.]


    [Which is why I¡¯m going all-in.]


    Sheng Quan had it all figured out:


    [If I don¡¯t change the current situation, just scraping by with a month or two of extra lifespan at a time means I¡¯d have to successfully sponsor someone new every few months.]


    [One misstep, and I¡¯d be out of time. So I need to tighten my belt and stockpile a reserve.]


    006 didn¡¯t quite get it. [Tighten your belt?]


    [Meaning, for the next several months¡ªmaybe even half a year¡ªI¡¯ll keep reinvesting in Xu Man. While she¡¯s not yet generating lifespan returns, I¡¯ll have the company push the first two beneficiaries to maintain steady career growth and keep my lifespan stable.]


    Sheng Quan wasn¡¯t the type to sit idle and wait for things to happen.


    In her past life, even when saving money, she¡¯d spread it across investments¡ªanything to keep it from stagnating.


    Because money left untouched was money losing value.


    She wasn¡¯t after huge profits¡ªjust enough to outpace inflation.


    The same logic applied to her lifespan. A buffer of a few months wasn¡¯t enough. One accident could wipe her out.


    So Director Sheng decided: instead of waiting passively, she¡¯d take charge.


    [For a director, making a great film doesn¡¯t guarantee fame. But making an internationally acclaimed one? That¡¯s a whole different story.]


    China''s entertainment industry has always lagged behind that of other countries, a fact even the Chinese themselves reluctantly admit.


    But who would willingly acknowledge that their own home falls short compared to others?


    If a single Chinese-produced work could dominate internationally, the entire nation would eagerly rally behind it, celebrating and elevating its success.


    And the film Xu Man is set to direct¡ªif adequately funded¡ªcould shine brighter than most people dare to imagine.


    ¡¾There¡¯s one more thing.¡¿ Sheng Quan signed her name on the contract: ¡¾Honestly, this situation bothers me too. We *do* have talented directors, writers, and actors¡ªplenty of them.¡¿


    She shook hands with Xu Man, watching as the ethereal woman before her grinned so widely her teeth nearly disappeared. Sheng Quan couldn¡¯t help but smile too.


    The good news? She was now in a position to shatter that very status quo.


    ***


    Sheng Quan invested in a film titled *The Cultivator*.


    The news spread like wildfire, accompanied by one staggering detail: the investment amount.


    One hundred million yuan.


    A fellow investor who¡¯d been closely tracking Sheng Quan nearly spat out his tea:


    ¡°A hundred million?! *Another* hundred million?! How many installments?¡±


    The friend delivering the news wore an expression of pure envy, sourly adding, ¡°No installments. Paid in full upfront¡ªand rumors say there might be more later.¡±


    His bitterness was justified; he, too, was a director.


    The friend lamented, ¡°Who knows how Xu Man managed to convince Chairwoman Sheng? I can¡¯t even scrape together ten million, and Sheng Quan just handed her a hundred million in one go!¡±


    ¡°It¡¯s a xianxia fantasy film¡ªa genre that¡¯s practically *ice-cold* at the box office! Chairwoman Sheng must be new to the industry, doesn¡¯t know the market. Ugh! Why couldn¡¯t *I* have been the one to cross paths with her?¡±


    The sum was staggering, and the fact that it wasn¡¯t staggered¡ªjust dumped all at once¡ªleft every director green with jealousy.


    Upon hearing the news, he¡¯d seriously considered sprinting to a plastic surgery clinic to morph into Xu Man¡¯s doppelga?nger and steal her place as the recipient of Sheng Quan¡¯s largesse.


    A hundred million? Forget surgery¡ªhe¡¯d have gotten a *gender swap* for that kind of money.


    The investor, however, wasn¡¯t jealous of Xu Man. He was fixated on one detail:


    ¡°So, after donating a hundred million, Sheng Quan just... pulled out *another* hundred million in liquid cash? Good god. No, no¡ªI need to call Wang Zhengzheng. A figure like this? I *have* to get connected.¡±


    In the entertainment industry, money is everything.


    And Sheng Quan had just proven, with cold hard cash, that she had *plenty* of it.


    Her private number was guarded like a state secret, but word had spread that Wang Zhengzheng had latched onto Starlight Entertainment¡¯s Sheng Quan. Plenty had sneered at him for it before.


    A man of his age, with his reputation and clout, groveling before a woman barely out of her twenties? Smiling like a sycophant, practically begging to be her sworn sibling? *Tch.* The sheer desperation was pitiful.


    Then Wang Zhengzheng leased an entire floor of Huaxing Building at a jaw-dropping discount. A few critics fell silent.


    When Sheng Quan dropped a hundred million in donations during *The Voice of You*, the remaining naysayers promptly swallowed their words.


    And now, after she invested another hundred million in Xu Man¡ªa young director with only three historical dramas to her name¡ªthose same critics were suddenly tripping over themselves to fawn over her.


    Wang Zhengzheng¡¯s phone rang off the hook as desperate connections begged for introductions, offering favors, flattery, and promises in exchange for even a *glimpse* of Chairwoman Sheng.


    Companies flocked to Starlight, clamoring for partnerships.


    On the rare occasions Sheng Quan appeared at the office, the visiting executives¡¯ smiles would instantly warm by eight hundred degrees.


    Even dining at a hotel, strangers would rush to cover her bill, just to murmur their name in hopes of leaving a favorable impression.


    This frenzy didn¡¯t fade with time. If anything, it intensified.


    Because *The Road of Life* aired.


    And it exploded.

 Chapter 32

    **"The Path of Life"** initially garnered almost zero attention. After all, the original novel wasn¡¯t popular, its fans were low-key, the director was unknown, and the cast lacked star power.


    Yet, against all odds, this seemingly doomed drama gained traction¡ªthanks to **Sheng Quan**, a famously wealthy fan who became its most vocal cheerleader.


    The mere gimmick of *"a rich superfan personally overseeing the production"* was enough to hype up audiences long before the show even aired.


    Of course, there were naysayers. Some urged everyone not to get their hopes up, and one highly upvoted comment under a pre-release discussion thread for **"The Path of Life"** summed it up:


    *["Let¡¯s not kid ourselves with that ¡®trust the taste of the wealthy¡¯ nonsense. Watching TV and making TV are two entirely different things. Just because someone¡¯s good at enjoying dramas doesn¡¯t mean they can direct one. How many big-budget films backed by rich amateurs have flopped? And let¡¯s not forget¡ªSheng Quan isn¡¯t even a professional investor. She¡¯s a complete outsider in the entertainment industry. Sure, she started a company, but that doesn¡¯t change the fact that she¡¯s an amateur meddling in experts¡¯ territory. Frankly, I can¡¯t imagine this ending well."]*


    The comment resonated with many, earning its high upvotes. Compared to blindly optimistic takes like *"This actor looks hot, I¡¯m sold!"* or *"A book fan¡¯s investment guarantees quality!"*, their skepticism seemed far more rational.


    No one disputed that **Sheng Quan** was wealthy¡ªthat was undeniable.


    But did wealth automatically mean her drama would be good? Not necessarily.


    Forget the low odds of the show being decent; just consider this: when expectations are sky-high, disappointment hits harder. It¡¯s like expecting a gourmet feast and getting fast food instead¡ªeven if the food¡¯s okay, the letdown stings.


    Given this, plenty of viewers remained skeptical, not out of spite but logical reasoning.


    And so, **"The Path of Life"** premiered under this cloud of mixed anticipation.


    The pressure on the crew was immense. In showbiz, pre-release hype is a double-edged sword: if the final product underperforms, all that initial excitement curdles into resentment.


    The higher the pedestal, the harder the fall.


    Even **Wan Bao**, who had mostly recovered from surgery, was too nervous to check any devices after the first six episodes aired.


    He¡¯d been confident in his work¡ªeven while bedridden post-op, he¡¯d remotely supervised filming, spending over five hours daily on calls with the assistant directors. The moment he could walk, he rushed back to set, barely resting as he scrambled to make up for lost time (thanks only to **Yu Xiangwan**, the strict production supervisor, who reined him in).


    Yet, for all his confidence during filming, the premiere left him uneasy.


    Sure, the licensing fees had far exceeded his expectations, but more than money, he craved recognition for his work.


    He wasn¡¯t alone. The cast was just as anxious.


    *Did I flub that one scene?*


    *Was my character interpretation off?*


    *Did I nail the subtle details?*


    *Will the audience hate my character¡¯s flaws?*


    For everyone involved, this project was *that* important.


    Their hopes were modest¡ªif the show just performed *decently*, met the bar for a *good drama*, they¡¯d be thanking the heavens (and **Chairman Sheng**).


    But after the first six episodes dropped, the show didn¡¯t just *do well*¡ªit exploded.


    You don¡¯t need backend data to gauge a drama¡¯s success; audience reactions tell the story.


    Within hours of the premiere, fan edits and creative tributes sprouted like wildfire, and the novel¡¯s dwindling popularity surged back to life.


    When viewers love a show, their enthusiasm is unstoppable. They become unpaid, *overzealous* promoters, flooding every platform (and real-life conversations) with impassioned recommendations.


    No studio payments needed¡ªthese *"organic advocates"* (or *"word-of-mouth armies"*) outdid any hired marketing team with their genuine excitement.


    Right now, **Sheng Quan** was scrolling through this very avalanche of fanfare across social media.


    ¡¾So heartwarming! I cry every episode, but not out of frustration¡ªit''s the kind of crying from being deeply moved. It''s been so long since I''ve seen a drama that makes you slow down and truly immerse yourself, making you feel like these characters are real. At first, I thought Teacher Ma was too harsh¡ªbalding, strict, and a bit untidy. But when Xiuxiu got her period and he gruffly draped his coat over her, "punishing" her to clean the bathroom, then awkwardly waited outside the convenience store for the owner to open so he could ask her to deliver pads to his student... I just melted. Having a teacher like that is such a blessing!¡¿


    ¡¾Same here! Especially when Xiuxiu realized she¡¯d stained her pants in the bathroom¡ªshe was so embarrassed and didn¡¯t know what to do, begging the "Toilet God" to save her. Then suddenly, the store owner passed pads under the stall! The look on Xiuxiu¡¯s face, shocked and relieved, made me rewind that scene so many times. I initially thought it was just luck the owner was there, but the ending flashback revealed it was all Teacher Ma¡¯s doing.¡¿


    ¡¾Teacher Ma = Toilet God¡¿


    ¡¾Earlier, when Xiuxiu told her classmates the Toilet God was real, I laughed. But after seeing the ending... sob, having a teacher like that is everything.¡¿


    ¡¾This reminded me of my middle school teacher. She seemed scary too, and I was terrified of her back then. But when I lost my lunch money, she secretly brought me meals every day. Makes me want to visit my alma mater now.¡¿


    ¡¾My first thought after finishing: Where¡¯s the next episode?! My second thought: This is my new go-to show for mealtime! I¡¯m watching it with every meal from now on!!¡¿


    ¡¾Me at first: "These kids actually believe in a Toilet God?" Me later: "SOBBING THE TOILET GOD IS REAL!!"¡¿


    ¡¾Police Officer Qin is so, so, SO handsome¡ªimportant things must be said three times!¡¿


    ¡¾As a die-hard fan of the original novel, I¡¯m thrilled¡ªit¡¯s incredibly faithful! Every character feels alive, like they¡¯ve stepped right out of the pages. This is why adaptations need input from book fans!!¡¿


    ¡¾Aloof Police Officer Qin acts indifferent to everyone, but he shields his new colleague without hesitation during a crisis. He buys useless hair clips from an elderly street vendor just so she can go home early. No wonder Sheng Quan fell for him¡ªI¡¯m smitten too!¡¿


    ¡¾Already started the novel. Finishing it tonight!¡¿


    ¡¾Such a heartwarming show. Only flaw? Why just six episodes?!¡¿


    ¡¾As a 20-year veteran drama viewer, I¡¯ll bet anything¡ªif the quality holds, this will be HUGE! Tearjerking yet funny, every character richly developed, acting so natural. No messy love triangles, just relatable flaws and virtues. Only six episodes in, and I¡¯m already rewatching. Maybe even a third or fourth time¡ªit¡¯s that rewatchable.¡¿


    ¡¾This show radiates warmth: Teacher Ma mooches snacks and sneaks reads confiscated comic books, yet buys pads for a student and hides his kindness. Police Officer Qin enforces rules rigidly but helps vendors pack up early. Even Wu Qin, the tattletale everyone dislikes, bravely shouts "Cops are coming!" to scare off bullies...¡¿


    ¡¾Just realized¡ªthis gem only has 32 episodes?! Tragic!! Meanwhile, trashy padded dramas drag on for 50+. Why must the good ones be so short?!¡¿


    ¡¾To the above: Maybe it¡¯s precisely because it¡¯s not padded that it¡¯s only 32 episodes.¡¿


    ¡¾AHHH!! I need more! Release the remaining 26 episodes NOW!!!¡¿


    Sheng Quan nodded along, liking every positive comment, then expertly switched to a burner account (courtesy of 006, 100% secure) to gush praise. She wasn¡¯t shilling for her own show¡ªshe was fangirling as a genuine viewer.


    Before the premiere, she¡¯d been all about promotion strategies. But once it aired, the transmigrated CEO had an epiphany: this was a real world now.


    In the novel, *The Road of Life*¡¯s success was summarized in a few lines, just enough to explain its appeal. But here, she could experience it firsthand.


    Watching the drama, Sheng Quan was flooded with joy.


    This world¡¯s entertainment industry was even more cutthroat than her past life¡¯s. For *The Road of Life* to stand out in such a competitive landscape? It exceeded every expectation.


    Sheng Quan felt utterly exhilarated while watching.


    No wonder this was a drama that, despite being shelved for years in its original adaptation, could still explode in popularity when finally aired.


    It was just too good!!


    The perfect binge-watch!!


    Its addictiveness was practically on par with ''Lao Gan Ma'' chili sauce¡ªtoo bad this world didn¡¯t have ''Lao Gan Ma,'' or she¡¯d definitely buy a jar to mix into her rice while watching.


    Turns out, the greatest joy in life wasn¡¯t just arriving in a brand-new world where she could enjoy countless classic, high-quality old works (including TV dramas, films, novels, comics, anime, and so much more).


    No¡ªit was getting to watch those classics *and* having the power to invest in even better, even higher-quality new works.


    And the best part?


    These works didn¡¯t just satisfy her¡ªthey also made her money!


    Could there be anything more blissful in this world?


    Well, actually, there was something even better.


    After finishing the sixth episode without a hint of urgency, Sheng Quan pulled out her phone, located the relevant department, and¡ªseeing that Director Miao was the highest-ranking official¡ªtapped her contact.


    **[Director Miao, is there a full backup of *The Road of Life* in the archives?]**


    Director Miao, who was at her computer assigning tasks to her team, was interrupted by the notification. Annoyed, she muttered, ¡°Who¡¯s this? If you¡¯ve got something to say, just say it¡ªno need for the ¡®tap¡¯...¡±


    A subordinate glanced over and widened their eyes. ¡°Director, I think it¡¯s Chairwoman Sheng contacting you.¡±


    Director Miao took a closer look and cleared her throat.


    ¡°As expected of Chairwoman Sheng. This ¡®tap-to-message¡¯ method is worth promoting¡ªefficient, quick, and ensures the recipient sees and replies immediately.¡±


    After swiftly saving face, she hurriedly replied:


    **[Yes, Chairwoman Sheng. A full backup of *The Road of Life* is indeed stored in our company¡¯s archives, handled by our department. Is there an issue you¡¯d like to address?]**


    Was there a problem with the full series? A leak, perhaps? It couldn¡¯t be from their end¡ªshe¡¯d supervised everything tightly. Maybe the editing company or the streaming platform was at fault.


    As Director Miao¡¯s mind raced with possibilities, two new messages popped up from Chairwoman Sheng¡¯s account:


    **[I¡¯ve been binge-watching, but there are only six episodes available.]**


    **[Since you have the full series, I¡¯ll have Little Zheng come by later. Could you arrange for him to get a copy?]**


    Ah, yes¡ªthe *real* pinnacle of happiness. As the investor, Sheng Quan didn¡¯t just get to enjoy the show; she could also, after devouring the six episodes released to the public, simply pull the complete series from her own company¡¯s archives and binge the rest in one go.


    Director Miao blinked in surprise before remembering: their chairwoman was only in her twenties. Of course she¡¯d be into binge-watching dramas.


    Just as she was reflecting on this, a red envelope popped up in the chat with the note: *For your trouble.*


    Instantly, her overthinking transformed into sheer delight at this unexpected windfall.


    She didn¡¯t bother with the usual polite refusals¡ª¡°It¡¯s just part of my job,¡± ¡°No need for a reward,¡± etc. Though she hadn¡¯t been at Starlight long, everyone knew the chairwoman always sent red packets when asking for personal favors¡ªeven for minor tasks like this that barely disrupted work.


    For salaried employees like her, the amounts weren¡¯t jaw-dropping, but free money was free money! Who wouldn¡¯t be happy?


    Plus, Chairwoman Sheng *always* asked for these favors during work hours.


    Director Miao had earned her position through skill and experience, having worked at other companies before. She¡¯d seen plenty of leaders demanding personal errands from staff after hours¡ªno red packets, not even a polite ¡°thank you.¡±


    But at Starlight, the culture trickled down. Because of the chairwoman¡¯s habit, managers now followed suit. If they needed help with personal tasks, they¡¯d either send a red packet or treat their team to a meal, coffee, or tea.


    The kind of boundary-blurring, exploitative behavior Director Miao had witnessed elsewhere simply didn¡¯t exist here.


    Feeling smug, she once again applauded her own quick thinking for applying to Starlight the moment she saw their hiring notice.


    Then, staring at the chat, an idea struck her¡ªone that could boost the popularity of *The Road of Life*, their company¡¯s investment.


    But this fell under the Entertainment Marketing Department¡¯s purview, not hers.


    At her old company, she¡¯d have swallowed such a cross-departmental thought immediately. *Not my problem. Just do my job. The show¡¯s success doesn¡¯t affect my paycheck.*


    If she meddled in another team¡¯s work, they might even resent her.


    But now, with her growing sense of belonging at Starlight, her good rapport with colleagues, and her understanding that Chairwoman Sheng was approachable, Director Miao hesitated for only a few seconds before placing her hands back on the keyboard:


    ¡¾President Sheng, can our conversation be shared publicly?¡¿


    ****


    On Weibo, an ordinary lifestyle account posted a seemingly mundane update that quickly sparked speculation and discussion among netizens due to the intriguing details it contained.


    As the post circulated, it turned into a collective guessing game.


    The content was brief¡ªjust a casual work-related rant¡ªbut packed with juicy tidbits:


    ¡¾Me binge-watching a drama vs. my boss binge-watching a drama.


    My boss and I are following the same ongoing series. I¡¯m obsessively waiting week after week for the next episode, while my boss just waltzes into our company¡¯s archives and gets the entire season.


    The kicker? I can¡¯t watch it too! Confidentiality rules forbid it! AHHHHHH! Not only can I not watch, but I also have to escort the boss¡¯s secretary to retrieve the files, then watch in agony as he delivers the full season to her while I¡¯m left counting down the days till the next episode...¡¿


    The post included a screenshot of a chat log¡ªnames, drama title, and episode numbers redacted¡ªshowing only the part about fetching the files.


    What seemed like a trivial work anecdote quickly went viral, with netizens both envious and curious about details like ¡°boss gets full access to ongoing dramas,¡± ¡°company archives,¡± and ¡°the boss even gave a bonus for running this errand.¡±


    Some envied the boss; others envied the poster.


    ¡¾Is this how the rich live? I¡¯m over here suffering weekly waits while they get the whole season upfront (sobbing).¡¿


    ¡¾SO JEALOUS!!! As someone currently following a drama, I¡¯d kill to switch places with that boss!!!¡¿


    ¡¾Am I the only one fixated on the fact the boss gave her a bonus? And even said ¡®Thanks for the hard work¡¯! ¡®Thanks for the hard work¡¯!!!¡¿


    ¡¾My boss treats me like a janitor, babysitter, and free tutor for his kids, while other bosses hand out bonuses for minor errands.¡¿


    ¡¾What drama? What drama what drama? Is it the one I¡¯m watching? Is it???¡¿


    ¡¾There are quite a few ongoing dramas lately, but if both the boss and OP are hooked, it must be good. I¡¯ve already narrowed it down to a few titles¡ªso, uh, can we all get access to the full season?¡¿


    ¡¾I don¡¯t even watch dramas, but now I¡¯m curious. What¡¯s so good that even a big-shot boss with her own archives is obsessed?¡¿


    ¡¾OMG WHAT A DREAM BOSS!!! The timestamp shows this happened during work hours, and she still gave a bonus as a ¡®thank you¡¯¡ªdo bosses like this actually exist?!¡¿


    The OP selectively replied to a few comments:


    ¡¾Our company culture is like this¡ªclear boundaries between work and personal matters, set by the boss. So it¡¯s not just her; all managers give small bonuses or treats when asking for personal favors.¡¿


    ¡¾Yeah, the boss is loaded, but she¡¯s also genuinely nice. She chats and jokes with us at work, and oh yeah¡ªour overtime pay is double the standard rate.¡¿


    ¡¾I¡¯m jealous of my boss too, lol. Seriously considering buttering her up next time to see if she¡¯ll let me peek at the full season out of fellow-fan solidarity.¡¿


    ¡¾Won¡¯t name the drama¡ªdon¡¯t wanna get busted by the boss.¡¿


    The OP seemed to reveal nothing, but netizens, armed with internet microscopes, went full detective mode, piecing together clues:


    ¡¾An ongoing drama, probably high-quality if the boss is into it. Plus, OP said ¡®she¡¯¡ªfemale boss alert.¡¿


    ¡¾Also, the redacted ¡®Episode X¡¯ formatting suggests it¡¯s a single-digit number, meaning the drama has fewer than 10 episodes. Recent dramas under 10 episodes and worth watching? Only two: *The Road of Life* and *The East Manor*.¡¿


    ¡¾Full-season access would only be with the production team, editors, or platforms. Did some digging¡ªthe editor for *The East Manor* is a female boss, but she¡¯s in her 50s. Doubt she¡¯d use cutesy chat stickers. *The Road of Life*, though? Funded by Sheng Quan.¡¿


    The deductions snowballed:


    ¡¾Sheng Quan¡¯s company has legendary employee perks¡ªfits perfectly!¡¿


    ¡¾Plus, Sheng Quan¡¯s a known fan of *The Road of Life*¡¯s original novel. Of course she¡¯d binge the adaptation.¡¿


    ¡¾HOLY CRAP, if this is Sheng Quan... Boss, are you hiring?! Fresh grad here, bonus-ready!!!¡¿


    ¡¾NO WAY! Just looked up Sheng Quan¡¯s Starlight Entertainment benefits¡ªwait, scratch that, *my* boss¡¯s benefits. Are they hiring?! I¡¯ll fly there NOW!¡¿


    ¡¾Gimme the full season too!! I wanna watch!!!¡¿


    As the buzz peaked, Sheng Quan tweeted:


    Sheng Quan: ¡¾Yep, that boss is me (facepalm). Gotta say, binge-watching is pure joy. Can¡¯t share the full season, but I talked to the platform¡ªtwo extra episodes dropping tonight. Happy watching!¡¿


    The announcement sent drama fans into a frenzy.


    ¡¾Ahhhh more updates please!!!


    Sheng Quan, I love you!!!!¡¿


    ¡¾OMG! What amazing content is this?! Is this the legendary power of money at work?!¡¿


    ¡¾President Sheng enjoys her soup but doesn¡¯t forget to share the meat with us¡ªtrue loyalty!!!¡¿


    ¡¾Haven¡¯t watched *The Journey of Life*¡ªis it really that good? Even Sheng Quan is binging the full series!¡¿


    ¡¾Hey, upstairs anon, it¡¯s SO good! Absolutely incredible!! Highly recommend! I just finished my second rewatch, wuwuwu I also want to see the remaining 26 episodes!!! Sheng, take me with you, please!¡¿


    ¡¾Take me too, Sheng!¡¿


    ¡¾Me first!!¡¿


    ¡¾Pick me!!¡¿


    That night, hashtags like *#ShengQuanDemandsMoreJourneyOfLife* and *#ShengQuanBingeWatching* once again trended on social media.


    This left industry peers utterly speechless¡ªbecause the buzz was undeniably organic, not paid promotions, just genuine hype fueled by netizens. Like before, the trend sparked discussions about everything related to Sheng Quan, from her past ventures to her current influence.


    Most crucially, the trending topic didn''t just amplify the already skyrocketing popularity of *The Journey of Life*¡ªit also served as free publicity for Starlight Entertainment.


    One glance was enough to see that Sheng Quan, both the major investor of *The Journey of Life* and the chairwoman of Starlight Entertainment, was winning big.


    Even industry insiders who¡¯d already been impressed by the drama¡¯s success now regarded her with renewed awe.


    ¡°Damn, I should follow Sheng Quan¡¯s lead and invest in that fantasy film¡ªthis woman has some serious luck on her side.¡±


    While other companies¡¯ employees airing grievances on social media tarnish their reputations, her team¡¯s posts somehow turn into profit, fame, and a surge of fans.


    And the most infuriating part?


    This time, she didn¡¯t even have to spend a dime.


    --------------------

 Chapter 33

    The explosive popularity of *The Journey of Life* instantly catapulted the show''s actors to a level of fame they had never dared to dream of before.


    Suddenly, it seemed like everyone was talking about this new drama.


    Audiences passionately discussed the plot, deriving their own interpretations, and even media outlets praised it as *"a rare gem that appeals to all ages and genders."*


    On the surface, it played out like a comedy¡ªalmost every episode had moments that left viewers clutching their stomachs in laughter¡ªbut beneath that lighthearted exterior lay profound reflections on *"life."*


    Rather than passing judgment, the show simply presented the shared human experience with humor and authenticity.


    Everyone could see a piece of themselves in *The Journey of Life*:


    The teenage years, brimming with wild imagination, oblivious to parents'' worries, carefree about the future yet overflowing with joy.


    The parents, seemingly ordinary and mundane, yet once young and spirited themselves.


    The grandparents, always nagging but sneaking treats to their beloved grandchildren, leaving people to wonder how they passed their days without TV or newspapers.


    Each seemingly simple plotline grew more addictive the longer one watched.


    The drama¡¯s success even surpassed Sheng Quan¡¯s expectations when she first read the novel adaptation.


    But looking back, it made sense. In the original story, *The Journey of Life* had barely scraped by during filming, with Wan Bao desperately patching together funds. The director was exhausted, both physically and mentally, and the entire crew lived under the shadow of *"this might fall apart any day."*


    In the novel, the production lacked even a decent makeup artist, costumes were rented, and props were handmade¡ªnowhere near the current lavish standards of custom-tailored outfits, professional makeup teams, and no-expense-spared cinematography.


    Given these upgrades, outperforming the source material was only natural.


    Sheng Quan often saw viewers praising the show¡¯s quality in the barrage of on-screen comments:


    [*The soundtrack is absolutely perfect¡ªit fits so well!*]


    [*The cinematography is stunning, like something out of a movie!*]


    [*Every set detail is so meticulous!*]


    [*Even the doodles in the notebook on the desk are so lifelike!*]


    Wan Bao¡¯s relentless pursuit of perfection had paid off handsomely.


    Audiences could always tell when a show was made with genuine care¡ªnot just from production quality but also from the actors¡¯ performances.


    While they might not be professional critics, viewers could easily distinguish between good and bad acting.


    And in *The Journey of Life*, it was no exaggeration to say that not a single actor fell short.


    Before this drama, most of the cast had been relatively unknown¡ªYan Hui, for instance, was signed by investor Sheng Quan while she was buying a pancake. Yet every one of them delivered their best.


    After the show¡¯s success, Wan Bao¡¯s reputation soared. No longer would he face situations where even a modestly budgeted TV project risked losing funding.


    When the results came in, he buried himself under his blankets and cried for a long time¡ªperhaps in relief that his perseverance had finally been rewarded, or perhaps over the bittersweet struggles he¡¯d endured.


    The sweetest revenge came when the investor who had pulled out sent an intermediary to apologize, hinting at interest in collaborating on the next project. Wan Bao accepted the gifts and the meal¡ªthen firmly declined.


    *Pure satisfaction.*


    *Absolutely exhilarating!*


    If Sheng Quan proposed another collaboration, he¡¯d sign the contract in a heartbeat, no matter who else came knocking. But that other guy? *Maybe in the next lifetime.*


    It wasn¡¯t just that Sheng Quan had invested when he needed it most¡ªwithout her, he might never have discovered his health issues in time.


    Wan Bao kept it to himself, but in his heart, he considered her his lifelong benefactor.


    The lead actors also saw their careers skyrocket overnight.


    Lin Aike rose to become a rising starlet, while Zhou Zhi and Wang Zheng enjoyed newfound prestige.


    Yan Hui, with his exceptional acting and striking looks, amassed a massive fanbase, going from obscurity to household fame¡ªhis career meter now hitting 43.


    The entire crew reaped rewards, but Sheng Quan¡¯s gains were the greatest.


    After all, both Yan Hui and Lin Aike were signed under her company, Starlight Entertainment.


    The two had become veritable cash cows¡ªand they were more than willing, even eager, to keep generating profits for her.


    As the drama¡¯s primary investor, she had already secured a staggering price for *The Journey of Life*¡¯s first broadcasting rights. With such a stellar debut, bidding for secondary rights grew even fiercer.


    Rough estimates suggested she¡¯d net over 100 million this year alone.


    While 100 million might not be much compared to her total wealth, her initial investment had been just 10 million¡ªand in barely half a year, that sum had multiplied tenfold, with more revenue still flowing in.


    Those industry peers who had once sneered, *"She¡¯s just a rich kid playing around without a clue,"* fell silent.


    Mr. Wang, who had tossed in some funds to curry favor, now grinned ear-to-ear, singing Sheng Quan¡¯s praises everywhere while boasting about his own *"keen eye for talent."*


    Yet Sheng Quan herself had no time to celebrate her windfall¡ªshe was busy handling company affairs.


    The *"Boss Watches, We Watch"* campaign had been an unplanned marketing stroke.


    She could¡¯ve devised such a promotional tactic herself, but with *The Journey of Life* already a massive hit, an extra push wasn¡¯t strictly necessary.


    Still, in recognition of Director Miao¡¯s initiative, she awarded him an exceptionally generous bonus.


    The entire entertainment marketing team, though not as lavishly rewarded as Director Miao, also received unexpected windfalls.


    *"This is a good sign,"* Sheng Quan remarked to Gu Zhao, visibly pleased.


    *"It shows the staff are developing a sense of belonging, willing to think about the company¡¯s interests and take risks¡ªlike proposing cross-departmental strategies¡ªeven if it means facing reprimands."*


    An employee¡¯s effort might not always directly impact the boss¡¯s profits, but for a company aiming to climb higher, it made all the difference.


    Top-tier talent could either coast through their days or actively drive the company forward¡ªand the latter mindset was invaluable.


    Take Director Miao, for instance¡ªa transplant from a more established firm. Sheng Quan would bet anything that he¡¯d never have dared to propose ideas outside his department at his old job.


    It wasn¡¯t that he¡¯d suddenly become brilliant at Starlight Entertainment, nor that Sheng Quan possessed some *"transmigrator¡¯s charisma"* that compelled loyalty.


    Rather, she was shaping Starlight into a place where employees¡¯ contributions were promptly recognized and rewarded.


    On this matter, even the ever-composed Gu Zhao seemed mildly surprised.


    Here is the English translation of the provided Chinese novel content, tailored for English-speaking readers while maintaining the original style and meaning:


    ---


    ¡°Among the domestic companies I¡¯ve studied, it¡¯s rare to find employees who develop a strong sense of belonging after just a few months of work. Even if a company offers extremely high compensation, it usually takes at least a year to gradually cultivate loyalty among employees.¡±


    Sheng Quan: ¡°That¡¯s because everyone knows deep down that the reason they receive such high pay is that their skills are worth it.¡±


    As a former corporate drone in her past life, she had plenty of experience in this regard:


    ¡°The large corporations you¡¯ve studied are too big and too established. Their environments are already rigid. If Director Miao were to make suggestions in those companies like she does at ours, she¡¯d just be ostracized by others whose interests were threatened.¡±


    It seemed that children in China were raised with the belief that ability could directly translate into money, but the reality of the workplace was entirely different.


    Unless someone¡¯s talent was so extraordinary that it left everyone in awe, sheer ability alone rarely guaranteed success.


    Offend your boss, and they could suppress your achievements¡ªwhat could you do about it?


    Even if you didn¡¯t offend them, what if your boss took credit for your work?


    Or worse, what if you avoided conflict, your boss didn¡¯t steal your merits, but you still had to navigate the backstabbing, credit-grabbing, and scheming among colleagues? Could you handle that?


    Sheng Quan had seen too many top students from prestigious schools either adapt and assimilate into this system or fade into mediocrity after entering the workforce.


    In school, grades were everything. But in the real world, there was no such place where talented individuals could freely showcase their abilities without restraint.


    Take Yu Xiangwan, Yuan Zixin, and even Gu Zhao¡ªhadn¡¯t they all been held back despite their capabilities?


    Sheng Quan herself had once been one of the suppressed, back when she first entered the workforce.


    At the time, she had resented it bitterly, frustrated that despite being far more capable than her colleagues, she was the slowest to get promoted¡ªsimply because she refused to flatter her superiors.


    She hated attending those pointless drinking gatherings where people just boasted.


    She despised being called into post-work meetings where her boss would spout nonsense.


    She loathed having her personal time encroached upon, detested overtime, cringed at crude jokes, and couldn¡¯t stand bosses who acted like they were doing employees a favor by letting them work¡ªwhen in reality, they were the ones profiting.


    It took Sheng Quan a long time to adjust her mindset. Eventually, she became more seasoned than anyone, and after ¡°blending into the system,¡± her abilities were finally given room to shine. She climbed the ladder, earned promotions, bought property, and appeared wildly successful on the surface.


    But deep down, she still despised the unwritten rule that ¡°performance determines your work, but seniority determines your promotion.¡±


    Now, she was the one making the rules.


    The best part? Starlight Entertainment was a new company in a youthful industry. Even veterans like Yuan Zixin, who had years of experience, still carried the drive to push forward.


    In a company full of fresh employees, as the top boss, Sheng Quan could establish her ideal system without resistance.


    Of course, building a ¡°dream company¡± wasn¡¯t easy. Her current task was maintaining this new order.


    Sheng Quan had anticipated subordinates like Director Miao, who actively sought self-improvement.


    In fact, she had deliberately cultivated such employees:


    ¡°Even though they¡¯ve only been here a few months, the staff at Starlight Entertainment have already figured out how things work here.¡±


    ¡°We don¡¯t tolerate toxic workplace habits. Promotions and raises are based on merit. Once you lay out a clear path for advancement, they¡¯ll naturally strive toward it.¡±


    This was why a company was better off with a single leader¡ªbecause the preferences of those at the top inevitably shaped the entire organization.


    Take Starlight Entertainment, for example. Gu Zhao, the CEO, deliberately deferred to Sheng Quan, ensuring no power struggles or factions within the company. Everything ran according to her decisions.


    Sheng Quan¡¯s preferences influenced management, and management, in turn, influenced the employees. Though she rarely handled day-to-day operations directly, her few appearances had made her leadership style abundantly clear:


    Firm boundaries between professionalism and personal matters. A deep aversion to workplace politics.


    Naturally, management followed suit. Even those who had once been ¡°masters of corporate maneuvering¡± before joining Starlight didn¡¯t dare display any of those habits here.


    ¡ªBecause those who did were swiftly fired.


    The reason Sheng Quan was with Gu Zhao now was to discuss exactly this issue.


    Despite being less than half a year old, Starlight Entertainment wasn¡¯t without its conflicts.


    Management wasn¡¯t just Gu Zhao alone. Newcomers weren¡¯t promoted straight from entry-level; they were experienced professionals who had gone through rigorous screening before joining.


    But people had their own agendas. Some, accustomed to the old ways from their previous companies, were reluctant to change.


    Even though Starlight Entertainment clearly had a different culture, they clung to the belief that ¡°all companies are the same¡ªit¡¯s just the newness that makes this one seem special.¡±


    And Sheng Quan refused to let that mindset take root at Starlight.


    On the surface, she seemed hands-off, but in reality, she was fully aware of every major development in the company¡ªsome of which she had even instructed Gu Zhao to handle.


    The firing of this old-school manager was one such directive.


    This guy, clearly used to treating subordinates as personal servants at his last job, had demanded his secretary fetch his coffee, clean his office, and even pick up his kids from school.


    He¡¯d also called her on weekends to babysit¡ªall without a single extra cent in compensation. And all within his first month at Starlight, where he¡¯d already assigned non-work-related tasks over eight times.


    Ge Qingming, the manager in question, hadn¡¯t thought he¡¯d done anything wrong.


    Sure, Starlight Entertainment had a whistleblowing channel, but so what? Every company had one¡ªyet no employee would actually file a complaint, right?


    Well, Starlight¡¯s employees did!


    After the report was verified, Ge Qingming, barely a month into the job, achieved the dubious honor of ¡°fastest-fired executive.¡±


    Even up to his dismissal, he¡¯d assumed he¡¯d only face a demotion or pay cut. The actual firing left him stunned, and he even tried to bypass Gu Zhao to plead directly with Sheng Quan.


    He played the victim card hard, acting like a wronged, honest man.


    He claimed that at his last company, ¡°this was just how things were done,¡± that it was ¡°normal workplace camaraderie,¡± and that he was just asking for ¡°occasional favors¡± to ¡°build rapport.¡±


    After reviewing Ge Qingming¡¯s records, Sheng Quan did meet with him¡ªbut not to hear his excuses. Instead, she hit him with three blunt questions:


    ¡°You say you¡¯re innocent, but was the company policy not clear about this being unacceptable?¡±


    ¡°Did I not emphasize repeatedly that the old ways of other companies have no place at Starlight?¡±


    ¡°Tell me yourself¡ªyou took my high salary, exploited my employees, violated company rules, and poisoned the work culture. Shouldn¡¯t I fire you?¡±


    Ge Qingming had no answer.


    During high-level company meetings, the issue of workplace culture had indeed been brought up several times, but Ge Qingming had always dismissed it as mere idealism from the young new chairman.


    "What company isn¡¯t like this?" he thought. "Management privileges are what drive people to climb the ladder. Shouldn¡¯t those at the top turn a blind eye?"


    But the young chairman, Sheng Quan, wouldn¡¯t hear any of his excuses.


    "Privileges? Uncle Ge, let¡¯s be honest here. Forget future salary adjustments¡ªjust look at what you¡¯re getting now."


    "Your salary here is nearly one and a half times what you¡¯d earn elsewhere, not to mention the benefits and year-end bonuses combined. The extra alone could hire you five or six personal assistants."


    "And yet, despite my generosity, you¡¯ve been treating my employees like your personal servants. Tell me, if I let you stay after this, would my word still carry weight in this company? Would anyone still take our rules seriously?"


    At that moment, the last flicker of hope in Ge Qingming¡¯s heart died.


    She had called him "Uncle Ge"¡ªthere was no coming back from that.


    He knew Sheng Quan was right. She had repeatedly made it clear she wouldn¡¯t tolerate such behavior, yet he¡¯d flaunted his misconduct anyway.


    If she let him off with just a warning, not only would others disregard her authority, but even he himself wouldn¡¯t take her seriously in the future.


    A warning example had to be made, and the "chicken" had practically volunteered itself. Not acting would only undermine her credibility.


    Once the realization fully sank in, Ge Qingming was consumed by regret.


    Deep down, he had understood these principles all along. But Sheng Quan¡¯s youth and generosity had lulled him into a false sense of superiority¡ªa dismissive assumption that she was just a naive, inexperienced rich kid.


    After all, what company offered benefits this good? Surely it was only because Sheng Quan came from wealth and didn¡¯t know the value of money.


    He had bypassed Gu Zhao to plead his case directly to her, thinking her young age and gender might make her more lenient.


    But it turned out she saw right through him¡ªevery calculation, every justification laid bare.


    Young she might be, but her decisiveness was razor-sharp, as seasoned as any veteran of the corporate world.


    Not only was she firing him, but she was doing it in a way that left him with no grounds to dispute.


    Now, Ge Qingming even suspected that Sheng Quan¡¯s deliberate absence from the company these past months had been a trap¡ªwaiting for an entitled old-timer like him to reveal his true colors and serve as her cautionary tale.


    The knowing look on her face seemed to confirm his theory.


    Strangely, this realization made him treat her with even greater deference.


    Human nature was fickle¡ªpeople bowed to strength and preyed on perceived weakness. Now that he saw the steel beneath her youthful exterior, any thought of playing the "kindly elder" card vanished.


    What was the point? She had already dissected his every motive. Pushing further would only humiliate himself.


    By the time Ge Qingming left Starlight Entertainment, his face was ashen, his posture slumped like a man aged a decade in a single afternoon.


    It wasn¡¯t an exaggeration.


    Starlight¡¯s compensation package dwarfed industry standards. Employees enjoyed company housing, and management perks were even more lavish.


    Even with his experience and skills, finding another Shanghai-based firm matching Starlight¡¯s benefits would be impossible.


    His current salary was just the starting point¡ªeveryone knew raises came with tenure.


    And with Starlight¡¯s meteoric rise, staying meant guaranteed career advancement.


    That was why he had groveled, offering to accept demotions or pay cuts just to remain.


    Losing this job wasn¡¯t just unemployment¡ªit was like stumbling upon a gold mine, only to foolishly let it slip through his fingers.


    Regret gnawed at him, but it was too late. While finding another job would be easy, matching Starlight''s compensation? That ship had sailed for good.


    Sheng Quan felt no sympathy for his remorse¡ªnot out of some former employee¡¯s vindication, but because they both knew the real reason behind his blunder:


    He had never truly respected her as his superior.


    Maybe it was her youth, maybe her gender, maybe her infrequent office visits, or perhaps her policies struck him as "childishly idealistic."


    Would Sheng Quan tolerate such disrespect? Never.


    She calmly showed him the door, then instructed HR to find a suitable replacement.


    Though Ge Qingming¡¯s dismissal wasn¡¯t formally announced, the entire company took note. Reactions varied across the ranks.


    Management stiffened¡ªsome relieved they¡¯d adhered to rules, others scrambling to mend fences with subordinates. All grasped one truth now: Sheng Quan¡¯s word was law.


    For all her approachable demeanor and seemingly casual generosity, when she acted, there was no mercy.


    Even recognizing this as a calculated power move, Starlight¡¯s leadership fell swiftly into line.


    No one wanted to be the next Ge Qingming.


    Among regular staff, morale soared. No employee enjoyed sacrificing personal time to handle a superior¡¯s private errands unpaid, yet refusing risked retaliation.


    Industry veterans, especially those who¡¯d jumped ship from other firms, never expected such an offense to actually get someone fired.


    The consensus was clear: Ge Qingming had it coming. Exploiting fresh graduates? Bad enough. But crossing the line so blatantly?


    The whistleblowing secretary¡ªjust out of college¡ªhad filed her complaint in a fury, even foregoing anonymity. Only afterward did panic set in.


    If Ge Qingming stayed, her position would¡¯ve become untenable. Resigning seemed the only option, yet walking away from such unmatched benefits felt like self-sabotage.


    As days passed, her regret deepened.


    During the investigation, most predicted a demotion or formal reprimand for Ge Qingming. Actual termination? Unthinkable.


    Yet terminated he was¡ªpleading directly to Chairman Sheng changed nothing.


    Meanwhile, the secretary received her promised whistleblower bonus, sparking unprecedented enthusiasm among the ranks.


    Seasoned professionals marveled¡ªwhen had they ever seen a company that actually honored such pledges?


    China operated on guanxi, where personal connections often blurred accountability. But Chairman Sheng walked the talk.


    No favoritism. No empty gestures.


    Merit determined advancement. Break rules? Face consequences.


    Promised rewards? Delivered in full.


    Everyone is human, and encountering unfair treatment is bound to stir dissatisfaction. But in a fair environment, it only drives them to strive harder, because hard work truly yields rewards.


    This incident not only motivated employees to dedicate themselves more enthusiastically to the company but also deepened their sense of belonging.


    As Sheng Quan said, Director Miao was just the first.


    Firing Ge Qingming while rewarding the secretary and Director Miao was all about setting the right precedent.


    In such a work environment and atmosphere, ambitious employees push forward, while the more average ones grow more loyal. Precisely because the outside work environment is so harsh, Starlight Entertainment shines even brighter in contrast.


    With this mindset, they naturally begin to see themselves as integral parts of the company.


    Human nature leans toward seeking advantage and avoiding harm.


    If Sheng Quan had only imposed strict rules without offering high salaries, preaching about an ideal company and future, everyone would have dismissed her as a delusional fool peddling empty promises.


    But by dangling generous salaries and benefits as incentives¡ªwithout needing to lecture about her "vision for the company"¡ªboth management and employees realized:


    This company actually feels ideal. Doing good work really does pay off.


    Director Miao was the first to notice this, though she might not have fully articulated it yet.


    But Sheng Quan believed that when Director Miao decided to propose that "cross-department suggestion," she vaguely sensed it would earn the company¡¯s approval.


    The Ge Qingming incident was the first time Sheng Quan openly demonstrated her decisiveness. At the same time, she sent a clear message to all employees:


    Break the rules, and even top management will be swiftly dismissed. To keep their positions and salaries, they must adhere to company policies.


    And what were those policies?


    Maintain cleanliness, no forced overtime, no encroaching on personal time, no favoritism or nepotism, keeping meetings concise and to the point¡ªand so on.


    Every rule resonated deeply with the staff.


    This wasn¡¯t just a rulebook¡ªit was a dream workplace!


    After excited discussions, morale skyrocketed. Some overachievers were already scouring professional books, determined to climb Starlight¡¯s ranks through sheer effort.


    They were all young, carefully selected talents. With a clear and open upward path, why not give it their all?


    The overachievers were confident¡ªwithout obstacles, they¡¯d undoubtedly rise quickly.


    And now, Sheng Quan had removed those obstacles with decisive action. Time to hustle.


    While employees eagerly embraced their inner workaholics, Sheng Quan gathered management for a meeting after the dust settled.


    The core message was simple:


    Ge Qingming¡¯s fate speaks for itself. One final reminder¡ªStarlight¡¯s culture isn¡¯t like other companies. It never has been, and it never will be.


    If anyone dislikes this work environment, they¡¯re free to leave¡ªgracefully.


    No one wanted to leave.


    After getting used to Starlight¡¯s high salaries and unbeatable benefits, no one was willing to downgrade.


    Any tentative misbehavior vanished instantly.


    So, for months, Sheng Quan had been lying low, waiting for this moment.


    Those who¡¯d previously dared to test boundaries with Gu Zhao now didn¡¯t even dare to hint at anything in front of Sheng Quan.


    If before they¡¯d only pretended compliance while scheming privately, now they were genuinely committed to following her lead.


    They had no choice¡ªSheng Quan was clearly purging the bad apples to uplift the good ones.


    And after the Ge Qingming incident, everyone knew exactly what "good" meant.


    Sure, this approach was unheard of in other companies¡ªbut Sheng Quan had the money to back it.


    Sure, this was the first time such a workplace existed domestically¡ªbut Sheng Quan had the money.


    Sure, some of them had once been semi-"bad apples" themselves, and changing habits wouldn¡¯t be easy¡ªbut Sheng Quan had the money.


    Suddenly, everyone became paragons of virtue.


    They puffed out their chests, swearing they¡¯d always despised sycophants who relied on flattery and connections instead of merit.


    Complaints before? Must¡¯ve been a misunderstanding.


    They *loved* Starlight¡¯s culture. Loved it so much they¡¯d work here forever.


    They¡¯d devote themselves to Sheng Quan¡ªbody and soul!

 Chapter 34

    After handling company affairs, Sheng Quan didn¡¯t idle around. Instead, she turned her attention to *The Cultivator*.


    A big-budget production with an investment exceeding hundreds of millions couldn¡¯t just start filming overnight. The pre-production preparations alone had been ongoing for a while¡ªscouting locations, storyboarding, budgeting, and planning¡ªall of which were enough to give anyone a headache just hearing about them.


    All these tasks had been overseen from start to finish by Yu Xiangwan, the supervising producer.


    Yes, Yu Xiangwan was still the supervising producer for *The Cultivator*.


    This came as a bit of a surprise to Yu Xiangwan himself.


    Back when *The Road of Life* was being filmed, Chairman Sheng hadn¡¯t even established her company yet. Now, Starlight Entertainment was brimming with talent, and *The Cultivator* had a budget in the hundreds of millions. Plenty of people were eager to prove their loyalty and dedication to her.


    Yet, Chairman Sheng still chose him to be the supervising producer for *The Cultivator*.


    This was undoubtedly a sign of trust.


    Nothing was more reassuring than having one¡¯s earnest devotion reciprocated¡ªespecially since he¡¯d also been appointed as a vice president at Starlight Entertainment.


    Some people might change their mindset after climbing to a high position, but Yu Xiangwan, with his stubborn and intense personality, certainly wasn¡¯t one of them.


    Even without reciprocation, he¡¯d been fiercely loyal and single-minded. Now that his devotion was acknowledged? Xu Man had once secretly complained to Sheng Quan over the phone:


    "Supervisor Yu treats your words like imperial edicts. You told him to take care of his health, so he strictly follows an early-to-bed, early-to-rise routine and watches his diet like a health fanatic. You once offhandedly praised his drawing skills, and now he spends every spare moment practicing art. At this rate, if you said the stars in the sky were pretty, I bet Supervisor Yu would grow wings just to pluck one down for you."


    Sheng Quan didn¡¯t know what to do with Yu Xiangwan either¡ªit wasn¡¯t like she could tell him, *"Stop being so obedient."* At least his health-conscious habits were a good thing, and since he genuinely enjoyed drawing, she let him be.


    After months of hectic preparations, *The Cultivator*¡¯s actor auditions were finally nearing their end. Sheng Quan happened to be coming to review the results of a previous raffle and decided to drop by for the final days of auditions.


    As a xianxia (immortal heroes) film, *The Cultivator* wasn¡¯t exactly met with optimism. If the director or producer had big names and connections in the industry, they might¡¯ve been able to pull in some A-list stars to bolster the cast.


    But Xu Man didn¡¯t know any major celebrities, and as for Sheng Quan, the biggest star she¡¯d personally interacted with was Hua Qing. Mostly, she kept a healthy routine, and Starlight Entertainment was financially secure enough that they didn¡¯t need to chase investors, so she¡¯d never bothered attending the industry¡¯s endless, chaotic networking events.


    Still, *The Road of Life* had been nominated for the annual Golden Orchid Awards, so she might get a chance to rub shoulders with more stars there.


    Thanks to *The Road of Life*¡¯s success and Sheng Quan¡¯s rising reputation, despite xianxia films sounding like a risky bet, quite a few actors showed up to audition.


    For one, the acting industry was overcrowded and hyper-competitive¡ªgetting any role was a win, let alone a big-budget production. Below the A-listers, everyone was eager for a shot.


    Secondly, Sheng Quan¡¯s recent track record spoke for itself. *The Road of Life* had proven her eye for talent, and in the short time since her arrival, she¡¯d already propelled multiple people to stardom.


    Take Jin Jiu¡ªhis *100 Million* project aside¡ªor look at Yan Hui and Lin Aike. Yan Hui, already thirty, had languished in obscurity for a decade before skyrocketing under Sheng Quan¡¯s wing. Lin Aike, after finally gaining some recognition, had been exploited by her former agency with a slew of terrible ads. Yet the moment she joined Starlight, not only did her fame soar, but her reputation also improved¡ªshe¡¯d only taken on one high-end jewelry campaign since.


    Crunch the numbers, and it turned out *no one* who joined Starlight had been left behind.


    Of course, Starlight¡¯s own solid foundation played a role.


    As Sheng Quan had said before: with money in hand, she could attract top-tier talent, and the combined strength of these individuals was nothing to scoff at.


    It wasn¡¯t just actors who saw potential in following Sheng Quan¡ªinvestors and firms felt the same.


    When Xu Man had first tried securing funding, barely anyone had been willing to entertain the idea of a xianxia film.


    But the moment word got out that Sheng Quan was backing it, not only did new investors come knocking, but even those who¡¯d outright rejected them before suddenly changed their tune.


    ...Only to hesitate again after seeing the budget.


    Mainly because, by the looks of it, a hundred million might not even be enough.


    "The script is solid, and even if it¡¯s xianxia, it¡¯s worth a gamble¡ªbut do you *have* to go this big?"


    "With this setup, even two hundred million might not cover it."


    "Special effects alone will burn through most of the budget."


    "Can¡¯t you shoot most of the outdoor scenes on a green screen instead of hauling the crew all over the country? That¡¯s a money pit."


    "Ten immortal palaces? The set design costs alone are insane. Can¡¯t you trim it down to, say, three or five?"


    "There are way too many minor roles. Look, I¡¯ve got a godbrother¡ªslot him in as the third male lead, and I¡¯ll chip in more."


    This was the kind of headache directors hated most¡ªa bunch of semi-clueless investors waving cash around like they were gods, expecting ten dollars¡¯ worth of spectacle for every penny spent.


    In the past, Xu Man would¡¯ve had to grit her teeth and explain why the budget was necessary, why certain scenes *had* to be shot on location, why the script couldn¡¯t be arbitrarily trimmed, and why talentless "godbrothers" or "godsisters" couldn¡¯t just buy their way into the cast.


    But now? She stood her ground: *Take it or leave it.*


    "Actually, the production budget is quite sufficient. Chairman Sheng will continue investing as needed, so there¡¯s no need for concern on that front."


    That shut the smaller investors right up.


    Xu Man: *So satisfying.*


    From graduation until now, this was the first time she¡¯d ever faced investor teams with her spine this straight.


    Feeling that Sheng Quan deserved all the credit, Xu Man enthusiastically bought her a cup of boba tea and brought it over to where Sheng Quan was observing the final auditions.


    "Thanks~"


    Sheng Quan¡¯s vibe was a far cry from your typical casting director. Though seated behind a table like everyone else, hers was laden with snacks and fruit, her chair outfitted with a cushion Yu Xiangwan had thoughtfully placed earlier, and now topped off with a drink hand-delivered by the director herself.


    Even though she¡¯d deliberately chosen a corner seat, any actor stepping into the room could instantly tell who held the most sway here.


    As for whether anyone minded her snacking while others worked?


    Nope. Not only did no one complain, but they also seized every chance to subtly curry favor.


    I mean¡ªcome on. The top investor of the entire production.


    It wasn¡¯t just that Sheng Quan often treated the crew to food and drinks; the sheer aura of "Biggest Backer" and "Chairman of Starlight Entertainment" was enough to have people lining up to welcome her.


    With her own tasks mostly wrapped up, Xu Man sat down beside her with her own boba tea and glanced at the impeccably peeled pomelo in front of Sheng Quan¡ªand Yu Xiangwan, still meticulously peeling another beside her.


    *Wow*, she thought, amused. *Talk about dedication.*


    She wasn¡¯t a newcomer, and from the moment she started working with Yu Xiangwan, she could tell he was a tough, unyielding figure. Later events only confirmed her initial impression.


    With such a large production crew, conflicts were inevitable. But those who crossed Yu Xiangwan learned their lesson the same day¡ªhe didn¡¯t let grievances linger overnight.


    No, to be precise, it wasn¡¯t about crossing Yu Xiangwan¡ªit was about jeopardizing Sheng Quan¡¯s interests.


    Xu Man stood firmly on Sheng Quan¡¯s side, so she never experienced Yu Xiangwan¡¯s ruthless methods firsthand. Still, she¡¯d heard the whispers¡ªhow he appeared calm and refined on the surface, yet played dirtier than anyone when it came down to it.


    And yet, here was the very same Yu Xiangwan, the supposedly cold and calculating producer, now gently peeling a pomelo for Sheng Quan with a look so tender it would make those he¡¯d disciplined drop their jaws in disbelief.


    Sheng Quan turned to Xu Man. ¡°Are those investors still bothering you?¡±


    ¡°Yes, endless complaints. They want in but are terrified of losses, worried the project¡¯s too ambitious to sustain. The moment I mentioned you¡¯d increase your investment, they all shut up.¡±


    Sheng Quan didn¡¯t say, ¡°Then let¡¯s cut them out and have me invest alone.¡± By now, she was half an industry insider herself and knew filmmaking wasn¡¯t like TV production¡ªthere were far more hurdles to clear.


    Take distribution, for example. Starlight Entertainment was still too green in that area. If she took full control, it¡¯d be a massive effort with minimal payoff.


    But with other investors and firms sharing the pie? That changed everything. Once the cake was collectively owned, Sheng Quan wouldn¡¯t need to lift a finger¡ªeveryone would scramble to make their shared investment shine.


    Their stakes wouldn¡¯t be too large, of course. They just wanted a slice, not the risk. Otherwise, they wouldn¡¯t be so hesitant now.


    Though she wasn¡¯t physically present, Sheng Quan had been receiving Yu Xiangwan¡¯s reports and knew exactly where the budget for *The Cultivators* was going. After a pause, she asked:


    ¡°Did they object to building the Ten Great Immortal Palaces set?¡±


    ¡°Oh, massively.¡± Xu Man could understand their concerns. ¡°If we go for full-scale sets, the budget for that alone would be astronomical. But those palaces are pivotal to the story¡ªif we skimp, the visuals will suffer.¡±


    Sheng Quan smirked.


    Just as she¡¯d expected.


    She glanced at Yu Xiangwan, who immediately understood. Wiping his hands, he stood up.


    ¡°Chairman Sheng, I¡¯ll take Director Xu and the investors for a tour.¡±


    Xu Man: ¡°?¡±


    A tour? Of what?


    Sheng Quan finished the pomelo Yu Xiangwan had just handed her and answered casually:


    ¡°The Ten Great Immortal Palaces.¡±


    ***


    ¡°You¡¯ve already started building the exteriors?¡±


    ¡°In *Shanghai*? Isn¡¯t that way too expensive? No wonder your budget¡¯s so bloated.¡±


    They still had to humor Sheng Quan¡ªafter all, as the primary investor, she was the one shouldering the biggest risks. And the location *was* conveniently close, so it wouldn¡¯t waste much time.


    Though the fact that it *wasn¡¯t* remote was, in their eyes, a huge problem.


    The audition site wasn¡¯t in downtown Shanghai, but it wasn¡¯t in the suburbs either. Building filming structures here? The land lease alone would be outrageous.


    ¡°At least pick the outskirts¡ªno, scratch that, you shouldn¡¯t be building in Shanghai at all! Find some cheap rural town. Doing it here is just burning money! Director Xu, this spending is completely unnecessary.¡±


    It wasn¡¯t that they were being nitpicky¡ªtheir concerns *were* valid. Most film sets were built on leased land, only to be torn down after shooting wrapped.


    In other words, the money was literally being thrown away.


    So even as Xu Man¡¯s head throbbed from their complaints, she could only deflect by citing Sheng Quan¡ªbecause the budget *was* absurdly high by any standard.


    Forget the lease costs; just constructing sets realistic enough to pass as genuine would be a colossal expense. Some productions even went mad with authenticity, building fully functional structures.


    To these investors, Xu Man was clearly one of those madmen.


    The ¡°mad¡± Xu Man: ¡°...*I* didn¡¯t pick the location.¡±


    She and Yu Xiangwan had a clear division of labor as the production¡¯s top leads. Scouting and construction were his domain.


    As she surveyed the area, her mind automatically calculated the exorbitant lease costs. By the time she finished mentally crunching the numbers, she was nearly hyperventilating from imagined financial pain:


    ¡°Producer Yu, what¡¯s going on? Why build here? The lease... the budget...¡±


    Yu Xiangwan remained as unflappable as ever. Outside Sheng Quan¡¯s presence, he wore his usual faint smile¡ªdeceptively mild, but unmistakably unapproachable. ¡°You¡¯ll understand when we arrive.¡±


    They were practically there already. In the distance, a bustling construction site sprawled before them: cranes towering over the grounds, swarms of workers (at least several hundred by rough estimate), excavators, concrete mixers¡ª


    And the skeletal frameworks of the palaces themselves, their sheer scale awe-inspiring even in their unfinished state.


    Xu Man¡¯s eyes lit up instantly.


    No director could resist such a set.


    The moment she saw it, budgets flew out of her mind. Grinning widely, she was already envisioning shot compositions:


    ¡°Wow, this is incredible! The finished product will look amazing¡ªit¡¯s practically real already...¡±


    A mustachioed investor rep beside her: ¡°...Director Xu, look closer. This *is* real.¡±


    Yu Xiangwan nodded. ¡°Correct. Chairman Sheng¡¯s philosophy is to do things properly. Every structure is built to actual architectural standards with genuine materials. Rest assured, all permits are in order.¡±


    The investors: *That¡¯s not what we¡¯re worried about.*


    ¡°Our concern is the cost! Building on such expensive land, only to tear it all down later? That¡¯s pure waste!¡±


    Yu Xiangwan adjusted his glasses. ¡°There¡¯s been a misunderstanding.¡±


    ¡°The Ten Great Immortal Palaces won¡¯t be demolished.¡±


    ¡°Not demolished?¡± The group collectively balked. ¡°She can¡¯t just decide that unilaterally! Does she even know how much the lease on this land costs per month?¡±


    Yu Xiangwan¡¯s smile remained polished. ¡°I believe Chairman Sheng is well aware.¡±


    ¡°Because the land belongs to her.¡±

 Chapter 35

    The investors: "..."


    Xu Man, still torn between "The set design is amazing" and "But it¡¯s way too expensive," while also muttering, "But the set really is incredible,": "..."


    She stared at the seemingly endless expanse of land ahead: "...All of this is?"


    Yu Xiangwan maintained his polite smile: "Yes. As Director Xu knows, Chairman Sheng places great importance on *Cultivator*, and she¡¯ll likely visit the set frequently. However, given her busy schedule, choosing a location in another city would be far too inconvenient."


    He turned slightly, gesturing toward the bustling construction site ahead: "So, upon learning that the production team hadn¡¯t finalized a location yet, Chairman Sheng purchased this plot of land."


    Xu Man: "..."


    The investors: "..."


    So, just because Sheng Quan didn¡¯t want to fly back and forth, she bought an entire piece of land to build the *Cultivator* sets?


    A whole plot of land.


    In *Shanghai*, no less.


    Even if it wasn¡¯t in the city center¡ªor even close to it¡ªthe price of land here was still exorbitant. They had winced at the thought of renting, yet Sheng Quan had outright *bought* it.


    And buying land wasn¡¯t as simple as snapping up a bargain. Every available plot had fierce competition, so the fact that Sheng Quan had secured such a massive piece meant she¡¯d outbid countless rivals.


    The group, who had been seizing every opportunity to nitpick along the way, fell into stunned silence.


    Yu Xiangwan, however, turned to them with a perfectly composed expression: "Rest assured, everyone, this expense was covered by Chairman Sheng personally. It doesn¡¯t come from the production budget."


    The investors: *...As if the production budget could even cover a fraction of this land.*


    Yu Xiangwan continued smoothly: "As for the construction costs of the Ten Great Immortal Palaces, those are also personally funded by Chairman Sheng. However, since she is both an investor and a close friend of Director Xu, the completed sets will be provided to the production team free of charge."


    Xu Man, suddenly mentioned, was both shocked and elated, never having expected Sheng Quan to treat her so generously:


    "No wonder she¡¯s been so secretive lately! Every time I asked, she¡¯d just say she was preparing a surprise gift. So *this* is what she meant."


    The investors glanced at the lively construction site ahead: *...Gifting an entire set of Ten Great Immortal Palaces. Well, that¡¯s a new one.*


    *Is it too late to become friends with Sheng Quan?*


    It didn¡¯t take much thought for the investors to realize that this land wouldn¡¯t go to waste. Once the Ten Great Immortal Palaces were built, they wouldn¡¯t be dismantled. The site could be repurposed¡ªinto an amusement park, a commercial street, a hotel, a film studio, or even all of the above. And if the movie became a hit? The profit potential would be astronomical.


    They understood the logic. The problem was, even *without* building the Ten Great Immortal Palaces, this prime Shanghai land could be developed into *anything* and still rake in massive profits¡ªperhaps even *more* than what Sheng Quan was doing.


    Yet Sheng Quan wasn¡¯t interested in alternatives. She was determined to use this sprawling, ultra-valuable plot in Shanghai for *movie sets*.


    Luxurious.


    *Extravagantly* luxurious.


    The investors, who had originally planned to haggle for more benefits, suddenly lost all desire to nitpick. Their earlier complaints and demands had been about securing more influence within the production.


    Sure, Sheng Quan was the primary investor, but when it came to film, *they* were the seasoned veterans. Around a younger figure like her, they¡¯d assumed they could assert some dominance.


    But now?


    One look at *this* land.


    *This* equipment.


    *This* scale of construction.


    The group: "..."


    Slowly, the realization dawned on them.


    The framework of the palaces was already half-built, meaning the land purchase had been finalized a while ago. Yu Xiangwan, responsible for site selection, had remained tight-lipped all this time¡ª*precisely* to solidify Sheng Quan¡¯s absolute authority.


    By revealing it only *after* they¡¯d joined the project, and presenting them with the awe-inspiring skeletal structure of the palaces, even the most scheming among them would grasp the unspoken message: *Know your place.*


    It was an open strategy, but under these circumstances, it worked flawlessly.


    Sheng Quan might be young, but she clearly wasn¡¯t just some reckless spender throwing money around.


    Once they pieced it together, the investors exchanged glances, their attitudes toward Yu Xiangwan instantly warming:


    "Chairman Sheng truly doesn¡¯t act unless it¡¯s with grandeur. Color me impressed."


    "With Chairman Sheng backing *Cultivator*, we can rest easy."


    "Exactly! We¡¯ll just follow Chairman Sheng¡¯s lead. She takes the meat; we¡¯ll happily settle for the broth. Hahaha!"


    Under the shadow of the colossal palace framework, everyone was all smiles, showering praise on Sheng Quan¡ªthe "newcomer" to the film industry¡ªas the atmosphere brimmed with harmonious goodwill.


    As for fighting for control over the production?


    *Hahaha... The future of film belongs to the young, after all.*


    ****


    Sheng Quan *had* intended to make a statement with her display of resources.


    But it wasn¡¯t quite as grand as Yu Xiangwan made it seem. She didn¡¯t actually have the funds to buy land¡ªthat plot had been a reward from the system, unlocked once Yan Hui¡¯s career progress hit 50.


    The higher the career progress, the harder it was to increase. Yan Hui¡¯s had been stuck at 49 for ages. If not for *The Path of Life* releasing behind-the-scenes footage and Yuan Zixin securing him a particularly flattering interview, breaking past 50 might have taken even longer.


    The system¡¯s rewards were randomized, but one thing was clear: aside from the initial "newbie bonus," the higher the career progress, the more valuable the prizes became.


    Take, for example, the "50 million yuan top-up at Love & Care Hospital." While 50 million *sounded* impressive, the fact that it was locked into a private hospital made it far less useful in practice.


    Her next two rewards had been a luxury car worth tens of millions and a decade-long lease on a prime commercial space in Huaxing Building¡¯s opposite wing (which she¡¯d since converted into the company cafeteria).


    But once Yan Hui¡¯s career progress crossed 50, the reward quality jumped significantly.


    Luxury cars and leased properties gave way to *plots of land*¡ªsome large, some small.


    She hadn¡¯t drawn the biggest prize, not even close. In fact, what she got was middling at best.


    But Sheng Quan was far from disappointed.


    Because the land came with *construction services*. Though there was a spending cap, she wasn¡¯t greedy enough to demand another Huaxing Building. The allocated budget was more than enough to build the shooting locations she needed.


    Now, as she watched the auditions, she idly chatted with 006: **[With those guys properly intimidated, the financial burden of *Cultivator* is shared more evenly. In about three or four months, we can start looking for a new candidate to sponsor.]**


    006 immediately expressed its wholehearted support¡ªthough, being a system, it technically had neither heart nor hands.


    Sheng Quan¡¯s current lifespan was entirely sustained by the "returns" from Yan Hui and Jin Jiu. But the higher their career progress climbed, the slower it rose. Based on their calculations, reaching 100% would likely require *global fame*.


    In other words, her current lifespan income was barely keeping her afloat. And with Xu Man being a director, tangible results wouldn¡¯t come until the film¡¯s release. 006 could practically see the future where Sheng Quan¡¯s lifespan ran out *before* the movie even hit theaters.


    If the host wasn¡¯t panicking, *it* certainly was.


    ¡¾I should have found a new beneficiary long ago. I know the host wants to accumulate a lot of lifespan all at once, but what if it runs out before then?¡¿


    Sheng Quan comforted the system with practiced ease: ¡¾Don¡¯t worry, I¡¯ve got a backup plan for that too.¡¿


    ¡¾If I could propel Yan Hui, who had nothing, to success, surely I can push Xu Man, who already has several works under her belt, into the spotlight?¡¿


    006 thought it made sense and immediately felt reassured, but soon began worrying again: ¡¾But the host only has a month of lifespan left now. To avoid any accidents, why not boost the beneficiary¡¯s career progress a bit right away?¡¿


    Sheng Quan had the same thought.


    To be precise, from the moment she secured this piece of land, she had already planned her next steps.


    ¡¾Let¡¯s wait a little longer. Once the Ten Great Immortal Palaces are completed, it¡¯ll be our time to shine.¡¿


    Question: How fast can ten nearly lifelike, massive Immortal Palaces be built, along with the surrounding scenery?


    Answer: With enough funding, as fast as you¡¯d like.


    And clearly, their funding was more than sufficient.


    Over the following days, the construction site transformed almost overnight. The number of workers far exceeded what Xu Man and the investors saw, as they were divided into two shifts, working around the clock.


    Of course, this was all government-approved.


    China¡¯s infrastructure capabilities were truly awe-inspiring.


    Even the representative sent by the foreign investor in the crew couldn¡¯t help but praise it for days, visiting the site of the Ten Great Immortal Palaces every time he came to the set, as if it were some fascinating novelty.


    Naturally, it wasn¡¯t just him. The other investors, including Xu Man herself, the director, made frequent trips there as well.


    The reason? It all looked incredibly real.


    Because Sheng Quan had said she ¡°wanted to see the Immortal Palaces described in the script,¡± Yu Xiangwan had faithfully recreated them exactly as written.


    Not to mention the sheer scale of the palaces, there were the jade-like steps (he insisted on calling them ¡°spirit stones¡±), towering celestial pillars, and even the intricate mechanisms described in the script¡ªdetails that were supposed to be handled by the special effects team. Given how complex the descriptions were, it should have been nearly impossible to recreate them physically. Yet, Yu Xiangwan somehow managed to assemble a top-tier design team, notoriously difficult to hire.


    To this day, Xu Man couldn¡¯t stop singing Yu Xiangwan¡¯s praises to Sheng Quan, showering him with compliments for pulling it off.


    Having directed several projects, this was the first time she¡¯d experienced what it felt like to be a director at the peak of satisfaction¡ªeven before filming had officially begun.


    The hardest part of filming was nailing the details. After all, movies and TV shows were about using illusions to create a believable world for the audience. But illusions were still illusions, and there were always slip-ups.


    Too many slip-ups, and the audience would be snapped out of the immersion.


    Take *The Road of Life*, for example¡ªits meticulous details, repeatedly praised by viewers, were the result of Director Wan and the entire crew laboring tirelessly over every little thing, down to the pen caps on the desks.


    And this production?


    Xu Man stood with her team before the newly completed Ten Great Immortal Palaces.


    The overwhelming grandeur of the towering palaces pressed down on them. The pristine ¡°white jade tiles¡± paved the ground, and ahead, a dragon coiled around a celestial pillar, its scales glistening with uncanny realism, its eyes seemingly alive as they stared right at them.


    She: ¡°......¡±


    The crew: ¡°......¡±


    Even Sheng Quan was stunned. She stepped forward to examine the craftsmanship of the dragon¡¯s tail, then turned to Yu Xiangwan, patting his shoulder with undisguised admiration. ¡°You¡¯ve outdone yourself.¡±


    ¡°I knew you could pull it off, but I never expected it to be this flawless. It¡¯s like you¡¯ve brought the Immortal Palaces down to earth.¡±


    Without exaggeration, Yu Xiangwan seemed to glow under Sheng Quan¡¯s praise.


    Slowly, slowly, he gave her a smile¡ªbright and utterly genuine.


    ¡°As long as you¡¯re pleased.¡±


    The head of the props team, who had once been on the receiving end of Yu Xiangwan¡¯s disciplinary measures, shuddered and muttered to his subordinate:


    ¡°Every time I see him smile, my hair stands on end.¡±


    ¡°Boss, I don¡¯t think Supervisor Yu smiled like this last time.¡±


    The props head thought for a moment. ¡°You¡¯re right. The way he smiles at us is more like... a dominatrix flower, but now he¡¯s practically blooming like a peony. Tsk, this guy¡ªway too good-looking. It¡¯s unfair.¡±


    The props assistant nodded in agreement. ¡°Supervisor Yu is so biased. He¡¯s all stern with us, but with Chairwoman Sheng, he¡¯s all smiles.¡±


    ¡°Exactly! And why does a grown man have to smile so prettily anyway?¡±


    ¡°Boss, what¡¯s with the face twitching?¡±


    The props head rubbed his cheeks.


    ¡°Oh, just practicing. Chairwoman Sheng might come over soon, and it¡¯s not like Yu Xiangwan¡¯s the only one who knows how to smile.¡±


    ¡°Just wait till I flash her a full-blown chrysanthemum grin.¡±

 Chapter 36

    Sheng Quan had no time to appreciate the smiles of the prop team.


    Her attention was completely captivated by the Ten Great Immortal Palaces.


    She had deliberately avoided checking the construction progress earlier, wanting to save the full visual spectacle for herself upon completion.


    And Yu Xiangwan truly lived up to his reputation as the "miracle-working" production supervisor from the books¡ªhe had somehow managed to bring the Ten Great Immortal Palaces to life with 200% of the intended grandeur.


    At the very least, the expensive CGI scenes from the xianxia dramas Sheng Quan had seen in her past life couldn''t compare to the intricate, awe-inspiring reality now laid out before her.


    The palaces themselves were secondary¡ªwhat truly stood out were the large and small mechanical props like the coiling dragon pillars. *The Path of Cultivation* wasn¡¯t set in a typical immortal realm but rather a cultivation world, filled not just with demonic and spiritual beasts but also all manner of magical artifacts.


    As the screenwriter had put it: *The pursuit of convenience is human nature. With so many cultivators, some choose to endure harsh conditions, while others indulge in luxury. Some seek an emotionless Great Dao, while others embrace passion. The cultivation world is vast¡ªno type of cultivator is truly unusual.*


    Add to that the fact that cultivators often lived for centuries, with a deep historical legacy¡ªhow could there not be inventions and innovations? Especially when spirit stones were a renewable resource, blah blah blah.


    This expansive worldbuilding made it clear just how ambitious the screenwriter was, clearly aiming to create an entire xianxia universe.


    Coincidentally, Sheng Quan¡¯s ambitions were just as grand.


    And even more coincidentally, her wealth was more than enough to fuel every one of them.


    The Ten Great Immortal Palaces represented the mightiest sects in the cultivation world, and naturally, they were equipped with the most numerous and advanced magical artifacts. Originally, these structures and tools were meant to be rendered with CGI¡ªbut now, they stood before everyone in breathtaking reality.


    Yu Xiangwan, standing beside Sheng Quan, introduced each feature in his deep, soothing voice:


    *"These moving puppet soldiers are embedded with the latest technology. For maximum visual impact, they¡¯re uniformly three meters tall, programmed with patrol routes. When needed for a scene, they can be controlled from backstage."*


    *"The dragon¡¯s eyes have motion-tracking capabilities, functioning like surveillance cameras. If something moves within its line of sight, its head will slowly follow."*


    *"The flying boat docked on that high platform has a wooden exterior, with long ¡®leaves¡¯ on either side that gently sway up and down. But for flight scenes, we¡¯ll still need wires and effects."*


    *"The disciple dormitories can double as crew accommodations during filming. The kitchen is over there."*


    Xu Man, trailing behind them, was practically starry-eyed.


    Filming a movie was never done in strict chronological order. While the Ten Great Immortal Palaces were still under construction, she had led the crew across the country, shooting at every scenic location they could find.


    In fact, the exterior shoots weren¡¯t even finished yet¡ªshe¡¯d only returned now with the art and props teams to check on the completed sets and leave them to prepare the filming grounds. After this visit, she¡¯d have to fly back to the remote mountains where shooting was still underway.


    But now...


    *"I don¡¯t even want to leave. These buildings, this design¡ªthe final product is going to look incredible."*


    Every time she saw another "artifact," Xu Man¡¯s mind immediately conjured up how it would appear in a specific scene. No need for close-ups¡ªjust treating these marvels as mundane elements would make for an absolute visual feast for audiences.


    The mere thought of it sent a thrill through her, lightening her entire body.


    It was like craving instant noodles and immediately finding hot water ready¡ªwith a side of ham sausage to boot.


    Sheng Quan understood Xu Man¡¯s excitement.


    She wasn¡¯t a director, but she was a seasoned viewer.


    In her past life, she¡¯d visited film studios during her travels, but those were usually just faux ancient cities¡ªwalk through, take a few photos, done. But here, every few steps through the Ten Great Immortal Palaces revealed intricate details worth pausing to admire.


    Even if *The Path of Cultivation* flopped, Sheng Quan could probably make a fortune just from ticket sales alone.


    Clearly, Xu Man and Sheng Quan weren¡¯t the only ones who saw the potential. The investors and their representatives, who had also squeezed in time to visit, couldn¡¯t stop marveling:


    *"Chairman Sheng, your team is full of talent! To achieve such spectacular results in such a short time¡ªremarkable."*


    *"Once filming wraps, you could turn this into anything and still turn a profit."*


    *"Profit? More like a goldmine. Even *I* want to visit¡ªonce this place opens, it¡¯ll be a money magnet."*


    Now they regretted not pushing harder to invest in the construction. The result far exceeded anyone¡¯s expectations.


    One investor even suggested: *"When the film¡¯s about to release, we should announce that the Ten Great Immortal Palaces are real sets. That¡¯ll definitely generate hype and draw audiences in."*


    Film productions usually kept both plot details and sets under tight wraps¡ªactors signed NDAs, leaks were forbidden, and big-budget projects often locked down entire sets. *The Path of Cultivation* was no exception. The construction site had been fenced off from the start, and the contractors had signed confidentiality agreements. In a city like Mo Du, where skyscrapers sprouted like weeds, no one paid much attention to yet another construction zone.


    But that had been the investors¡¯ initial stance. Now, standing before these "immortal palaces" that felt more real than reality, they changed their minds.


    *So what if the sets get leaked?* The xianxia genre was already niche¡ªno one would bother copying it. And even if someone tried, replicating these massive, real-life palaces would be financially impossible.


    With the genre¡¯s current slump, *The Path of Cultivation* was already starting at a disadvantage. Leaking these stunningly authentic sets would do more good than harm.


    The more they thought about it, the more excited they grew, turning hopeful eyes toward Sheng Quan.


    But she didn¡¯t commit. *"The promotion team has other plans for that,"* she said, shifting the topic. *"Xu Man, how much longer until you wrap exterior shoots and return here?"*


    Xu Man wanted to say *"Right now!"*¡ªbut she was still grounded enough to answer regretfully, *"At least two more weeks."*


    Exterior shoots were grueling, especially on location. It wasn¡¯t something you could just rush through. The fact that even Xu Man, who rarely tanned, had darkened three shades was proof enough of how tough it had been.


    *"Two weeks... that should be enough,"* Sheng Quan mused. *"Have the crew members who¡¯ve finished their parts return first, along with the extras. Wasn¡¯t there a massive ¡®Ten Thousand Swords Return¡¯ scene that needed training? Use these two weeks for that."*


    Xu Man agreed. The "Ten Thousand Swords Return" was a true spectacle¡ªthey might not need ten thousand extras, but for the desired effect, five hundred was a must. Getting that many people to move in unison *and* look good doing it required serious rehearsal.


    Luckily, each of the Ten Great Immortal Palaces had a grand plaza at its entrance¡ªmore than enough space for training.


    Once Xu Man nodded, the plan was set into motion.


    The extras had no objections to the training¡ªafter all, they were still getting paid for it. As for staying and eating with the crew and signing confidentiality agreements, that was nothing new; those in this line of work were already used to it.


    But when they finished signing the agreements and arrived on set, all several hundred of them were stunned.


    Most of these extras were experienced supporting actors and long-term crew members. The fact that the production team had gone all out to hire so many people for training alone was already impressive enough to earn gasps of admiration. But when they saw the Celestial Palace set, they realized what true extravagance looked like.


    Although the main crew was reportedly still shooting exteriors off-site and hadn¡¯t even begun setting up equipment yet, the sheer opulence on display was enough to get everyone excited.


    Not only were they all being hired as long-term crew, meaning higher pay than usual, but they also saw a glimmer of hope for actual screen time.


    The brand-new "sect robes" handed out to them¡ªnot reused "accessories and magical artifacts"¡ªalong with the two weeks of posture and combat training beforehand, made it clear that their faces would actually be visible on the big screen when the movie released.


    And while supporting actors generally had it better than regular extras, they still didn¡¯t earn much. Most couldn¡¯t afford posture or martial arts classes, so this collective training with professional instructors was essentially free lessons for them.


    Extras weren¡¯t limited to just one role, either. If someone performed well and caught the director¡¯s eye, they might be given additional parts. For example, at this very moment, Sheng Quan, leaning against the railing and observing the extras¡¯ training below, spotted someone promising.


    "That one at the very back, practicing sword forms¡ªthe one in Heartgaze Sect robes. Give him more fight scenes."


    Yu Xiangwan, hearing this, picked up a telescope (the immortal sect¡¯s grounds were so vast and elevated that distant training platforms could only be seen clearly with one) and quickly located the extra Sheng Quan had praised. The young man stood out distinctly among the crowd.


    His swordplay alone was eye-catching, and since the extras were practicing in full sect attire¡ªrobes and wigs included¡ªto ensure natural movements during filming, the young man genuinely looked the part of a cultivator disciple, and a formidable one at that.


    Yu Xiangwan had an iron grip on the crew¡¯s details and could even recall the extra¡¯s name on the spot:


    "His name is Yuan He. The fight choreographer mentioned him to me too, said he has exceptional talent in martial arts, works hard, and has excellent proportions. If you¡¯re interested in him, should we try to sign him?"


    Yuan He...


    Sheng Quan hadn¡¯t expected to randomly point out a character mentioned in the original novel.


    Yuan He was indeed a martial arts prodigy. While his looks weren¡¯t top-tier in the ruthlessly competitive entertainment industry, his slender frame was incredibly photogenic. Despite not appearing overly muscular, his fight scenes radiated explosive intensity.


    However, in the book, he¡¯d been in his mid-twenties when introduced. Here, he looked no older than eighteen.


    The novel had only mentioned that Yuan He retired at thirty due to chronic injuries from his stunt work in his youth. Could this be that very "youth"?


    Since he was a familiar face, Sheng Quan nodded.


    "See if he¡¯s willing to sign with the company. Even if he doesn¡¯t, give him a role with plenty of fight scenes. And have the choreographer teach them how to minimize impact and protect their bodies during stunts."


    By now, Sheng Quan was unfazed by encountering "book characters." After all, *Starlight* was an epic ensemble novel with a sprawling cast. Just during the *Cultivators* auditions, she¡¯d run into several near the end.


    She¡¯d also reviewed the actor list. Even excluding those who hadn¡¯t joined yet, five of the performers brought in by Xu Man had appeared in the novel. So it wasn¡¯t surprising for a supporting extra like Yuan He to show up too.


    Her focus now was elsewhere: "Is *Laugh Squad* all set?"


    Her assistant, Dong, quickly responded, "Yes, Chairwoman Sheng. The company has negotiated with them. They¡¯ve agreed to collaborate, and we¡¯re now finalizing details."


    "Good." Sheng Quan leaned on the railing, watching the extras in their sect robes practice sword forms in unison on the massive training platform paved with "jade." "Place the pre-designed mazes at every entrance. Now we just wait for the guests."


    ****


    *Laugh Squad Friends* was a moderately popular variety show that filmed and aired simultaneously. The guests had to complete various challenges set by the production team, and thanks to its fresh, interactive format and the cast¡¯s willingness to go all out, it had gained traction after airing, even boosting the guests¡¯ fame.


    Ou Zheng was one of those who¡¯d ridden the show¡¯s wave.


    This episode¡¯s challenge was a big one: the crew had hidden "treasures" all over Shanghai, and the guests had to find them using clue hints. They could also livestream to ask viewers for help.


    However, these "treasures" weren¡¯t exclusive to the guests¡ªaudience members could hunt for them too. If a viewer found one first, the guests would have to figure out how to retrieve it from them.


    A city-wide scavenger hunt, livestreamed and interactive? Though the task seemed daunting, Ou Zheng¡¯s worried expression was mostly for show.


    Success wasn¡¯t critical in this kind of lighthearted variety show¡ªunlike the cutthroat competition shows next door. As long as the laughs kept coming and viewers enjoyed his screen time, that was victory enough.


    Ou Zheng knew exactly how to play up audience engagement. After briefly explaining the rules on stream, he set off across the city with his cameraman in tow.


    As he ran, he "complained" to viewers:


    "What was the production team thinking? The whole city of Shanghai! And these clues? ¡®A road shaped like a butterfly¡¯s eye¡¯¡ªwhat kind of description is that? There are so many roads here; how am I supposed to find the ¡®butterfly road¡¯?"


    "And you guys¡ªthe ones giving fake addresses¡ªjust you wait! Other guests¡¯ viewers might¡¯ve already solved it, but mine are all just laughing at me. Quit it! If I lose, you¡¯re all going down with me."


    The chat exploded with "HAHAHAHAHA." Between the banter and puzzle-solving, Ou Zheng¡¯s humor kept viewers hooked, and as time passed, more and more tuned in, eager to see if he¡¯d uncover the "treasure."


    After getting a tip from the audience, Ou Zheng pulled up a map and headed to three butterfly-shaped landmarks by taxi.


    The first stop was a dog park. After an enthusiastic greeting from the pups, he had to concede: no treasure here.


    At the second location, Ou Zheng followed the trail until he spotted a heavily cordoned-off area.


    "Since when was this under construction? It wasn¡¯t like this last time I came."


    Viewers from all over chimed in with theories.


    ¡¾Surrounded so tightly, explore it!¡¿


    ¡¾This place looks familiar. Last time I was here, it was under construction.¡¿


    ¡¾There¡¯s nothing around except some buildings. This landmark must be wrong.¡¿


    ¡¾Ou Zheng, don¡¯t chicken out! Explore it!¡¿


    ¡¾Explore it!!!¡¿


    Because of Ou Zheng¡¯s habit of "investigating even a single leaf," most of the live-stream audience egged him on to explore.


    Ou Zheng naturally agreed without hesitation:


    ¡°Alright! Then let¡¯s take a look!!¡±


    As he moved closer, some viewers immediately started teasing him.


    ¡¾Such a huge area fenced off with barbed wire¡ªmaybe it¡¯s a military zone.¡¿


    ¡¾Spread the word: Ou Zheng¡¯s about to get arrested.¡¿


    ¡¾HAHAHAHA don¡¯t scare Ou Zheng, he¡¯s already nervous!¡¿


    Ou Zheng did hesitate, but only because he wasn¡¯t sure if this counted as trespassing. Seeing that the accompanying cameraman didn¡¯t object, he cleared his throat and put on a brave face:


    ¡°Who¡¯s scared? I, Ou Zheng, fear nothing! I¡¯m just checking if this barbed wire is electrified. Hold on, let me circle around and see if there¡¯s an entrance.¡±


    After searching for a while, he actually found an opening and slipped inside. The deeper he went, the weirder it felt: ¡°Why does this thing feel like a maze?¡±


    ¡¾Confidence boost¡ªit *is* a maze.¡¿


    ¡¾Looks like Ou Zheng¡¯s luck is holding up. He found the right spot.¡¿


    ¡¾This has to be set up by the production team. Who else would build a maze in the middle of nowhere?¡¿


    ¡¾Go for it, Ou Zheng!¡¿


    At this point, the audience was still enthusiastically cheering him on, curious about what challenge the crew had prepared.


    When Ou Zheng realized the cameraman had fallen behind, they didn¡¯t seem concerned.


    ¡¾No worries, just push forward!¡¿


    ¡¾Yeah, we¡¯ve got the recording.¡¿


    ¡¾Ou Zheng: Today, I¡¯m the cameraman.¡¿


    Encouraged by them, Ou Zheng kept walking, muttering to himself: ¡°This maze is way too big. I¡¯ve been walking forever and still can¡¯t find the exit. What if I¡¯m stuck here?¡±


    ¡°If I really get lost, remember to call the cops for me.¡±


    ¡°Did the production team blow their entire budget on this? A maze this huge just to trap me¡ªthey must be loaded.¡±


    The audience was starting to get bored too.


    ¡¾Why hasn¡¯t he gotten out yet?¡¿


    ¡¾Checked the time¡ªfifteen minutes already.¡¿


    ¡¾The crew really went all out this time.¡¿


    ¡¾Is Ou Zheng actually stuck?¡¿


    ¡¾Exit!!! I see the exit!!!¡¿


    The viewers weren¡¯t the only ones excited¡ªOu Zheng bolted toward it, phone in hand.


    But when he burst through, he froze.


    Before him stood an enormous, layered celestial palace, guarded by towering three-meter-tall armored giants wielding weapons as they patrolled.


    The live-stream viewers were even more stunned than he was.


    ¡°What the¡ªwhat *is* this?!!¡±

 Chapter 37

    For the sake of fairness, all the phones used by the guests for the live stream were provided by the production team.


    It¡¯s unclear whether it was an issue with this batch of phones or just Ou Zheng¡¯s bad luck, but the one assigned to him had subpar resolution, even slightly blurry.


    But for an outdoor live stream, a little fuzziness didn¡¯t matter much¡ªas long as things were roughly visible, it was fine.


    However, at this moment, viewers were staring at the screen, where a three-meter-tall giant could be seen walking slowly despite the slight blur, and they desperately wished the resolution would turn ultra-HD in an instant.


    ¡¾What the¡ªis that a person?!¡¿


    ¡¾No way?! Is this for real?? Is that a palace in the background??¡¿


    ¡¾Is it the camera angle? Why do those soldiers look so tall?¡¿


    ¡¾The production team really went all out with the budget¡¿


    ¡¾Wait, are those actual people?¡¿


    ¡¾That¡¯s gotta be at least three or four meters tall??¡¿


    ¡¾666666¡¿


    ¡¾Production team¡¯s killing it¡¿


    At this point, the audience hadn¡¯t thought much of it, assuming it was all prepared by the production team.


    From the screen, they could only vaguely make out what looked like a palace in the background and soldiers slowly marching forward, armed with various weapons.


    Their discussions revolved around whether the soldiers were unnaturally tall¡ªwhether the production team had hired exceptionally tall actors or if it was just Ou Zheng¡¯s camera angle playing tricks.


    Until they heard Ou Zheng¡¯s uncertain voice: ¡°Wow, the stingy production team actually prepared something this epic behind our backs? Those soldiers up ahead look kinda scary, haha.¡±


    Most viewers laughed along, but a few picked up on Ou Zheng¡¯s lack of confidence and flooded the chat with teasing comments:


    ¡¾Zheng¡¯s nervous¡¿


    ¡¾Zheng¡¯s scared¡¿


    ¡¾What¡¯s there to fear?! Go check it out!!¡¿


    Ou Zheng *was* nervous. After all, the audience was watching through a screen, while he was there in person. Even though he was at a distance, the moment he glanced down at the ¡°white jade tiles¡± beneath his feet, an uneasy feeling surged through him.


    *Too real.*


    The production team had set up scenes for shooting effects before, but for a comedy variety show, they usually just half-assed it. Like in the last episode, where everyone played princes, princesses, kings, and queens, the ¡°castle¡± backdrop was literally just a giant printed photo.


    But this? This was on a whole other scale.


    From where he stood, the scene ahead looked like its own miniature world.


    *Did the production team even have the budget for this?*


    Ou Zheng¡¯s doubts were quickly dismissed when he saw the audience¡¯s enthusiastic demands for him to investigate.


    With so many viewers watching, even an ordinary person would feel braver¡ªlet alone a variety show guest who thrived on attention and drama.


    ¡°Alright! Let¡¯s go check it out!¡±


    Ou Zheng quickly made up his mind, his tone returning to its usual lightheartedness:


    ¡°To all of you calling me a coward¡ªtry facing a bunch of giants this tall yourselves and see how you hold up.¡±


    ¡°But these giants are covered in armor, so you can¡¯t even see their faces. Probably not real people, right? No way actual humans are *that* tall.¡±


    ¡¾Just go look!¡¿


    ¡¾Zheng, investigate!¡¿


    ¡¾Do it!¡¿


    Encouraged by the audience, Ou Zheng actually started walking toward the giants.


    But the closer he got, the more he felt like these giants... were *way* too lifelike.


    ¡°Can you guys hear that? The *boom* of their footsteps¡ªI can even feel the ground shaking a little. I don¡¯t know how tall they are, but they¡¯ve gotta be *heavy*.¡±


    The closer Ou Zheng got, the more details he could make out: ¡°You might not see it clearly, but every soldier seems to be carrying weapons. That one with the massive hammer¡ªthere¡¯s no way that thing¡¯s a solid iron hammer, right?¡±


    The audience couldn¡¯t see the finer details, but the blurry visuals somehow made the giants feel even more real. When the hammer-wielding giant closest to Ou Zheng took thunderous steps forward, everyone was stunned.


    Before they could even comment on how ¡°realistic¡± it looked, the hammer soldier suddenly froze.


    It slowly, *slowly* turned its head¡ªtoward the screen.


    The next second, it abruptly raised its enormous hammer and charged straight at the camera with earth-shaking strides, accompanied by a deep, beast-like growl full of aggression.


    As the giant and its colossal hammer rapidly closed in, the previously lively chat was flooded with panic.


    Then, Ou Zheng yelled, ¡°*Holy sh¡ª*¡± and the screen jerked violently, accompanied by his heavy, frantic panting as he sprinted away.


    He was clearly running for his life.


    The chat froze for a second before exploding.


    ¡¾What¡¯s happening?!¡¿


    ¡¾Oh god, something¡¯s off¡ªthat thing might be *alive*¡¿


    ¡¾Did you guys see that?? There was something moving on top of the giant¡¯s head, like it was giving orders¡¿


    ¡¾I saw it! Looked like a tiny winged person¡¿


    ¡¾Did Zheng just say ¡®holy sh¡ª¡¯? That¡¯s gotta get censored¡¿


    ¡¾Production team¡¯s going all out¡¿


    ¡¾Starting to think this *isn¡¯t* the production team¡¯s doing...¡¿


    ¡¾I swear I¡¯m not imagining it¡ªthere was a tiny person on that giant¡¯s head¡¿


    Though the resolution was low, at such close range, with so many eyes watching, people caught glimpses of unsettling details¡ªespecially as Ou Zheng fled, the wildly shaking screen occasionally flashing bizarre sights.


    ¡¾Was that a *turtle* that just looked up at the noise?? It was like seven or eight meters tall!¡¿


    ¡¾Why are all those trees hung with jade pendants?¡¿


    ¡¾Did you see that giant bird flying in the sky?¡¿


    ¡¾This place is *massive*¡ªunrealistically huge¡¿


    ¡¾*WHAT* I just saw a *phoenix*¡¿


    ¡¾None of this looks fake at all??¡¿


    In a university dorm, a student slurping instant noodles suddenly choked. ¡°*What the hell?!* Guys, come look at this¡ªis this even real?!¡±


    In a city apartment, a man watching on his tablet bolted upright and grabbed his phone. ¡°Dude, *check out* the link I just sent you!¡±


    Meanwhile, countless other viewers were realizing something was *very* wrong with this livestream. Some started recording, others frantically called friends to join in.


    By the time Ou Zheng finally stopped running, a flood of new viewers had poured into the stream.


    He hid behind a massive pillar, nervously glancing back to confirm the giant wasn¡¯t chasing him before letting out a shaky breath. The audience had only caught fragments, but he¡¯d seen it all firsthand.


    Switching the camera to selfie mode, a panting Ou Zheng appeared on screen:


    ¡°I think... something¡¯s *really* off. I just saw a *gigantic* turtle, and when it looked at me, I almost died. What the hell is going on? Is this some next-level prank? Because this is *way* too high-budget??¡±


    As a guest on a comedy variety show, getting pranked by the production team was part of the deal¡ªeveryone signed agreements consenting to on-camera antics.


    Ou Zheng had endured countless pranks¡ª"haunted house scares," "mistakenly breaking expensive equipment on set," "getting lost in unfamiliar places," "discovering a snake in his room at midnight," and so on. After being tricked so many times, he¡¯d become a seasoned veteran. Sometimes, even when he spotted the setup, he¡¯d play along and pretend to be terrified.


    But now, no matter how surreal everything seemed, he couldn¡¯t tell what was real anymore.


    "Good thing you guys are here with me. This is terrifying." What kept Ou Zheng going with the livestream was the flood of new comments pouring into the chat.


    ¡¾Doesn¡¯t look fake.¡¿


    ¡¾I thought it was scripted, but Ou Zheng¡¯s face actually went pale.¡¿


    ¡¾Those things look way too real. Did the production team really set this up?¡¿


    ¡¾Ou Zheng, go check it out.¡¿


    ¡¾Get a closer look.¡¿


    Wiping sweat from his brow, Ou Zheng peeked warily behind a pillar. "I can¡¯t get closer. I¡¯m too scared."


    ¡¾So cowardly.¡¿


    ¡¾Spread the word¡ªOu Zheng¡¯s terrified.¡¿


    ¡¾To those calling him a coward: if this is real, if he hadn¡¯t run fast enough earlier, that hammer would¡¯ve killed him.¡¿


    ¡¾I still think it¡¯s scripted.¡¿


    ¡¾Same, but can they really make it this realistic?¡¿


    While the live chat debated, someone had already clipped and uploaded the footage to various platforms, quickly drawing the attention of countless netizens.


    More and more viewers flooded into the stream. Though thrilled by the surge, Ou Zheng¡¯s unease hadn¡¯t faded. He glanced around nervously and pulled out his phone.


    "No way, I have to call the production team and confirm. This feels too real¡ªlike something they couldn¡¯t afford to pull off. I¡¯ll call my sister instead. Damn it, no signal."


    The moment he said it, his face went white.


    "No signal? Then how am I still streaming to you guys?"


    The question sent a chill down every viewer¡¯s spine.


    Then, one comment appeared on-screen:


    ¡¾What if... you¡¯re not on Earth anymore?¡¿


    Ou Zheng froze.


    His first instinct was disbelief.


    "I¡¯m literally livestreaming to you right now. How could I not be on Earth? Stop messing with me. You all saw me walk in here. We just have to backtrack¡ª"


    He turned to look toward the maze¡¯s entrance¡ªonly for his pupils to shrink in horror.


    "Where¡¯s the exit?! It was just there!??"


    As he frantically searched for the way back, the chat exploded.


    ¡¾OU ZHENG!! BEHIND YOU!!!!¡¿


    ¡¾HOLY SH*T HOLY SH*T HOLY SH*T!!¡¿


    ¡¾LOOK BEHIND YOU, STREAMER!!!!¡¿


    ¡¾AAAAHHHH IT¡¯S MOVING IT¡¯S REALLY MOVING¡¿


    ¡¾STREAMER LOOK AT THE PILLAR BEHIND YOU¡¿


    ¡¾IS THAT... A PYTHON¡¯S TAIL????¡¿


    Oblivious, Ou Zheng squinted at where the maze should¡¯ve been.


    "Wait, I definitely ran from over there, right? Did I misremember? Do any of you¡ª"


    Then he felt it¡ªa slow, icy sliding sensation against his back. His words died in his throat.


    Ou Zheng looked up.


    An enormous dragon coiled around the pillar, its massive body shifting slowly. Sensing his gaze, its cold, reptilian eyes locked onto his.


    Ou Zheng: "AAAAAAAAHHHHHH!!!!"


    The viewers who saw the dragon through his camera: ¡¾AAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHH!!!!¡¿


    True to his reputation as the show¡¯s most physically and mentally resilient cast member, Ou Zheng didn¡¯t freeze like his audience. He bolted.


    But after sprinting for a while, he suddenly skidded to a stop.


    The viewers were just as stunned.


    Ou Zheng stood on a high vantage point, overlooking an expanse of majestic palaces so breathtakingly ethereal they seemed plucked from a xianxia novel. Below, a giant¡ªeven taller than the previous one, roughly seven or eight meters¡ªclad in armor lumbered past.


    A phoenix, as enormous as the one he¡¯d glimpsed earlier, glided past Ou Zheng and perched gracefully on the giant¡¯s shoulder.


    Countless winged ships hovered midair like docked vessels.


    And on the sprawling platform below, rows of figures in ancient robes moved in perfect unison, their swords flashing in synchronized practice.


    The scene was awe-inspiring.


    Even through the grainy livestream, the sight left everyone speechless.


    Viewers who¡¯d spent hours debating whether this was a production stunt were stunned silent.


    Newcomers, reluctantly dragged into the stream by friends, were stunned silent.


    Even those shouting "This is definitely a real transmigration!" were stunned silent.


    Then, a voice called out from behind Ou Zheng:


    "Hey! Which department are you from? You know filming isn¡¯t allowed here!"


    Ou Zheng must¡¯ve turned reflexively¡ªthe camera swung around, capturing only a flash of modern clothing and a partial profile before the feed cut out abruptly.


    Viewers, still reeling: "???"


    It¡¯s over??


    Just like that??


    Was it transmigration? An actual cultivation sect? Dragon Group? A top-secret government division?!


    AT LEAST TELL US WHAT HAPPENED NEXT!!!

 Chapter 38

    It wasn''t too bad when the live - stream wasn''t cut off. But once it was, the viewers who had been gathered in the live - stream room went crazy and then scattered everywhere.


    Moreover, most of the viewers were extremely excited.


    The main reason was that it was so realistic!


    At first, some people asked questions like "Is this a production by the program team?" or "Is this just a special effect?" But later, no one asked such questions anymore.


    Countless screen - recordings flooded into various platforms and were re - posted and screen - captured multiple times.


    Even those netizens who hadn''t watched the live - stream and were firmly skeptical before clicking on the videos became half - convinced after opening them:


    [These must be special effects, right?]


    [The special effects are quite good. They do look real.]


    [Is this a clip from a time - travel drama? It''s quite novel.]


    As soon as they saw such comments, the large group of live - stream viewers couldn''t wait to leave messages to prove the authenticity.


    [This isn''t a special - effect video. These are really live - stream pictures. I saw them with my own eyes.]


    [Me too. This is definitely not fake. The anchor was interacting with us all the time.]


    [I was also at the scene. When that dragon''s tail moved, I even sent a bullet - screen to remind Ou Zheng.]


    [Ah! I only regret that the pixel wasn''t high - definition enough. I really want to see a high - definition version. It must be so shocking!]


    [So where is Ou Zheng! Why hasn''t he shown up? Could he really have been arrested?]


    There was no need for any moderation. When more than a hundred thousand live - stream viewers saw someone questioning, they naturally turned into "online promoters" on their own.


    Having witnessed such a grand scene, they were so excited that they couldn''t wait to share it with the whole world. Many of them had already shared the live - stream with their friends while watching, not to mention now.


    When it came to the choice between "silent watching" and "active participation", most viewers chose the latter.


    Thanks to their efforts, this "live - stream incident" quickly escalated.


    How do big influencers like those on social media grow their followers? Isn''t it by grabbing people''s attention with such eye - catching topics?


    While ordinary netizens were still debating whether it was real or fake, these big influencers had already sprung into action. Whether it was true or false didn''t matter to them; they treated it as real.


    If netizens wanted it to be real, then it was real, especially since it did look quite real.


    If it turned out to be true in the end, they would be the front - line warriors.


    And even if it was later proven to be false, it didn''t matter because they had already gained the traffic and popularity.


    Once the big influencers and various video accounts on different platforms got involved, the spread of this incident took a huge leap forward.


    They all had a basic fan base, and it wasn''t an exaggeration to say that word spread from one to ten and then from ten to a hundred.


    Soon, topics like #Ou Zheng saw a dragon during the live - stream#, #Accidentally entered a Xianxia world during the live - stream#, and #The anchor traveled through time during the live - stream# quickly made it onto the trending lists.


    It wasn''t just the Weibo trending list. These video - related topics were even more popular on various video - sharing apps.


    Once they hit the trending lists on different platforms, the popularity skyrocketed.


    It was so real that even though the videos were blurry, some people were looking for details frame by frame in the long screen - recordings. There were even some skilled bloggers who asked professional people to conduct appraisals.


    Of course, only they themselves knew whether these so - called "professionals" were really professional. Anyway, in the videos they released, all of them unanimously recognized the authenticity of the videos.


    Not all those who joined in the fun were just making a mess. Netizens also had their own judgment. Soon, those well - reasoned analysis videos were pushed to the top of the popular lists.


    The top - ranked one was a video by Shui Yizai Zhou, who always took a truth - seeking attitude in making videos.


    His video got the most views mainly because he had already gained the trust of the audience, and with his large number of followers, people generally believed what he said.


    Shui Yizai Zhou''s attitude was as cautious as ever:


    [I spent several hours watching all the screen - recordings and asked my senior brother to appraise them. He said that this video was definitely not a special - effect production. Although it was blurry, you could see every detail. For example, when Ou Zheng was running away, there was a gust of wind. Let''s take a look at this screenshot.


    Look, all the objects in the picture were swaying with the wind. Needless to say, Ou Zheng''s hair was flying backward because he was running so fast.


    Look at the leaves on this tree by the roadside, the feathers of the birds flashing across the sky, and I also found some grass growing in the cracks on the ground. The backward arcs of all these completely match the real situation.


    And then there''s this scene where many people in ancient costumes were practicing sword - fighting. I counted, and there were 458 people captured in the picture.


    The most important thing is that although the shot was taken from above and it was blurry, as these 458 people moved, we could see that each person had a different face.


    I believe that special effects can be made very real, but I really don''t believe that they can make people''s looks, expressions so real.


    Of course, it''s useless for me to just not believe it. So I managed to contact a special - effects expert, a certain boss. ]


    The video showed a smiling photo of the boss as a token of gratitude.


    [Thanks to the boss for being so busy but still willing to research and analyze with me. Anyway, after a series of analyses, the boss clearly told me that the current special - effects technology can''t achieve the effect of simulating real human faces.


    Especially when it''s so far away and blurry but still shows such detailed features. If any team had achieved this, they would have become the shining stars of special effects. So the pictures we saw could only have been achieved with real people.


    As for the sword - fighting techniques they were practicing, I even took a five - hour bus ride to ask Daoist Feng. Yes, it''s that very capable Daoist Feng.


    His Taoist temple is just in the neighboring county of mine. After watching the video, Daoist Feng told me very surely that although he didn''t recognize this kind of sword - fighting technique, he could tell that although these sword moves were fancy, they weren''t just for show.


    If the swords were sharpened, they could really hurt or kill people.


    As for whether the swords were sharpened, it couldn''t be seen because the video was blurry and the distance was far.]


    After saying this, the video played the last screenshot:


    [Then let''s look at the most controversial part of the recorded live - stream. In the screenshot, this woman was clearly wearing modern clothes, sneakers and jeans, and she was holding a megaphone in her right hand.


    It''s worth noting that Ou Zheng captured her profile during the live - stream. Let me zoom in and show you. ]


    The video showed the somewhat blurry but beautiful profile.


    [Although it''s just a profile, with that superior nose shape and that beautiful contour, I bet she must be very good - looking, and as good - looking as a celebrity.


    If the video was a special effect, it would make sense for the program team to find a celebrity to participate.


    But the problem is, I''ve searched through all the entertainers in the entertainment industry, big and small, and I just can''t find out who she is.


    Let''s listen to what she said... Yes, this sentence "Hey! Which department are you from? Don''t you know you''re not allowed to record here?" ]


    After playing this part, he continued: [We can draw three pieces of information from this sentence.]


    [First, in this place that Ou Zheng accidentally entered, no matter what it''s for, the people inside are divided into different departments.


    Otherwise, it''s impossible for this suddenly-appearing person to ask right off the bat which department Ou Zheng belongs to.


    The second piece of information is that video recording is not allowed here. That means everything inside here needs to be kept confidential.


    This also explains well why there''s a maze at the entrance and why Ou Zheng took a full fifteen minutes to get out.


    As for those two lost cameramen, we still don''t know if they''ve come out yet.


    Thirdly, this exclamation "Hey!"


    It''s a scolding tone. Without knowing which department Ou Zheng is from, this seemingly young woman directly scolded him.


    It only indicates two possibilities. Either she holds a high position in this unknown place, so she can scold someone whose department she doesn''t know at will. Or video recording is a very serious matter here, so no matter which department you''re from, if you record a video, you''re in the wrong.


    And no matter which possibility it is... A Zheng is in danger!


    [...This video is an interpretation based on the available information. Regarding the discussion among everyone about whether Ou Zheng accidentally wandered into a special national department, I won''t make any more judgments.


    I can only say that according to my analysis, these video clips were indeed filmed for real and are not the so-called special effects as rumored online.


    Why do the people in the video seem to be practicing immortality, and why do dragons and phoenixes appear? Whether they are real living creatures or not is beyond my judgment.]


    Shui Yizai Zhou really has the skills. At least he''s not like most people who just make random guesses out of thin air.


    As soon as the video appeared, he immediately took the footage around the world to contact professionals for analysis.


    But precisely because of his attitude of seeking the truth, most of the netizens who originally thought it was just a special effects video switched sides.


    Lose 10 Pounds to Change Nickname: [Sure enough, you''re amazing, A Shui. Your video is the most authentic on the whole network! After watching it, I finally understand why I subconsciously thought it was real. Special effects simply can''t create such natural fluctuations. This video must be real.]


    Blackish White Rice: [Exactly! When I saw that part where hundreds of people were sword - dancing together, I knew it couldn''t be special effects. I''m in this line of work. If the people under me could create such an effect, I''d even let them be the boss!]


    Those who didn''t switch sides were gradually convinced by other videos.


    In the internet age, there are many talented people. Besides Shui Yizai Zhou, many other experts also emerged one after another to analyze and make speculations.


    For example, second only to Shui Yizai Zhou in terms of popularity is a new account. His analysis angle is different from everyone else''s. After presenting a bunch of valid certificates to prove his professionalism, this person with the nickname "Heavenly Book Transforms into a Kids'' Cartoon" started his analysis:


    [First, look at the facial expressions of these hundreds of people. As long as they''re exposed to the camera, each one is different. Look at the seventh person in the fifth row from the left. He''s yawning secretly, and the person next to him should be reminding him.


    The woman in front of them has a very serious expression, and there''s also a person behind who slipped his hand after finishing a move. Just by a rough search, I''ve found more than fifty people making different expressions and movements at the same time.


    ...So I can be 100% sure that these are definitely real people.]


    [Another very important point is Ou Zheng''s facial expression changes.


    At first, when he came to the entrance of the maze, he was obviously a bit hesitant. From this, we can see that the program crew didn''t give him any information about the maze.


    There''s a detail here. He looked back, probably looking at the cameraman.


    As we all know, when recording a program with tasks, the program crew will use some venues to set up tasks.


    Although the cameraman didn''t tell him to go on, not stopping him also gave Ou Zheng the wrong signal, making him think that this was the task venue set up by the program crew.


    After entering the maze, although Ou Zheng complained, looking at his micro - expressions, he was actually becoming more and more relaxed.


    Because obviously, in his perception, or rather, in the perception of all of us, except for the program crew who need to set up tasks, no one would be bored enough to build a maze in this place.


    So after the cameraman disappeared inexplicably, what Ou Zheng was worried about was only "Will I not get any footage because the cameraman is gone?" Let me zoom in on this expression for you.


    After showing the close - up shot, he continued his analysis: [It''s obvious that he was hesitating whether to wait for the cameraman, but when netizens suggested that "he be his own cameraman", Ou Zheng chose to move forward.


    [The first turning point was after he reached the exit. When he saw those palaces and giants, we couldn''t see Ou Zheng''s expression due to the angle.


    But if you look closely, you''ll find that he was silent for a while here. He didn''t interact with the netizens and didn''t express his shock immediately. Instead, his body had a slight sway, causing the live - broadcast picture to sway slightly too.


    It was a very subtle sway. So under what circumstances would such a sway occur?


    I found a colleague who is similar to Ou Zheng in height, build, and age, and asked him to imitate Ou Zheng''s standing position at that time for an experiment. Take a look at the experimental footage.


    In the experimental footage, a man who indeed looks similar to Ou Zheng in all aspects holds a mobile phone and sways his body to different degrees.


    [After various experiments with my colleague, we finally achieved the same sway as in the live - broadcast.


    And the reason for such a sway is that the person holding the mobile phone, that is, Ou Zheng, took a small step back.


    Taking a step back and turning his head back caused a small - arc tilt of his body, which is what we finally saw, that almost imperceptible small sway.


    In the video, the man took a small step back and at the same time turned his head slightly to the side and looked back. Then the video showed the tilt degrees of two live - broadcast pictures. Except for the different pictures, everything else was exactly the same.


    Heavenly Book Transforms into a Kids'' Cartoon continued his analysis: [So we can infer from this that after being greatly shocked by the scene in front of him, Ou Zheng''s first reaction was to look back.


    Here, he already had doubts and the intention to "back out", but the audience who had been interacting with him dispelled his doubts.


    To be precise, the doubts weren''t completely dispelled. It''s just that the audience was watching the live - broadcast, which gave him a sense of security that "he wasn''t alone".


    After that, as we all saw, when the giant lifted his foot and walked over, Ou Zheng didn''t even have time to say a word to the audience before he started running.


    And after he found a "safe pillar", Ou Zheng''s doubts couldn''t be suppressed by the audience''s interaction anymore. He even ignored the fact that he was still "recording a program" and wanted to contact someone outside for help.


    However, he sadly found that his phone had no signal.


    Zooming in on the details, Ou Zheng''s pupils suddenly dilated in an instant, which shows that he was greatly shocked at this moment. Under such a shock, Ou Zheng began to try to find a way out.


    The slow-motion replay in the video shows Ou Zheng shifting his gaze from his phone to looking behind him. At this reduced speed, even netizens unfamiliar with microexpressions can tell that Ou Zheng was solely focused on leaving at that moment.


    [Actually, when he turned his head, the dragon''s tail on the pillar had already begun moving subtly, though the movement was so slight that most viewers missed it.


    Ou Zheng, who was closest and should have noticed first, also failed to spot it¡ªconsistent with how nervousness can impair one''s focus.


    Later, when Ou Zheng saw the dragon, he immediately bolted without hesitation.


    Some netizens questioned this, arguing that they¡¯d be too terrified to even scream, let alone run so fast.


    To address this, I reviewed Ou Zheng¡¯s past videos and found that his reflexes and ability to react to danger have always been exceptional, as evident in multiple episodes.]


    [For example, in Episode 12, during an unexpected mishap, a male guest lost his balance and nearly fell into the water as the boat tilted.


    While everyone else froze, Ou Zheng¡ªwho wasn¡¯t even sitting nearby¡ªinstantly rushed over and pulled him to safety.]


    The video cuts to footage from that episode.


    [Similarly, in Episodes 3, 5, and 28, there are instances of Ou Zheng instinctively catching falling objects.


    From this, we can easily conclude that Ou Zheng¡¯s reflexes are naturally sharper than most.


    Given this, all his actions align with his established behavior.


    If this were an act, he¡¯d be a shoo-in for Best Actor¡ªyet his acting has been widely panned in every drama he¡¯s starred in.]


    While the phrase "water carries the boat" convinced many netizens of the footage¡¯s authenticity, the sudden shift from an ancient tome to childlike cartoons confirmed that Ou Zheng wasn¡¯t putting on a performance.


    After all... even his fans admit he¡¯s not exactly cut out for acting.


    ["¡®Not exactly cut out¡¯? Lol, fans are being too polite. The reason Ou Zheng sticks to variety shows is because he can¡¯t sing or act to save his life."]


    ["Wait, so does China really have a massive secret base like this?"]


    ["HOLY CRAP!! It¡¯s right in Shanghai?! That¡¯s way too brazen!!"]


    ["Based on my years of novel-reading experience, either Ou Zheng time-traveled, ancient cultivators crossed into our world, or that place is a portal between dimensions."]


    ["Exactly! If it¡¯s a dimensional rift, it explains why there was someone in modern clothes yelling at Ou Zheng for filming."]


    ["^This. The interdimensional portal theory makes the most sense."]


    ["OMG y¡¯all are debating whether it¡¯s real while I¡¯m just awestruck by those breathtaking structures?! And the dragon! The phoenix! The giant turtle!!! I NEED to see this in person!! If it¡¯s really a portal, can¡¯t they open it to the public?!"


    ["Bet a pack of spicy strips this¡¯ll turn out to be a marketing stunt¡ªsome brand collab with Ou Zheng and the show. He¡¯ll pop up later laughing about how it was all scripted."]


    ["^Dude, the Strategic Deception Bureau needs you on their team."]


    ["Damn, this blew up¡ªI¡¯m seeing discussions everywhere overseas."]


    The incident did indeed spread globally at lightning speed. When it comes to the supernatural, curiosity knows no borders¡ªespecially since China already has legends like "kung fu." The video, featuring hundreds of people in Daoist robes practicing swordplay together, was catnip for international audiences.


    Let¡¯s be real: it¡¯s the same way Chinese netizens would flock to headlines like "Witches and Unicorns Discovered in [X Country]."


    And just like that, foreign viewers were equally stunned by the video¡¯s grandeur.


    Awe transcends culture. Even without understanding Chinese lore, they could feel the electrifying thrill of those scenes.


    ["Are those people Daoist priests?"]


    ["That turtle is HUGE¡ªis it real??"]


    ["Why is there a ship floating in the sky? How?!"]


    ["Asked my Chinese friends¡ªthey say these are ¡®cultivators,¡¯ an ancient legend about people who gain power through training. Sorta like our wizards or mages."]


    ["Is that a Chinese dragon? Looks different from ours but terrifyingly majestic. Do creatures like this actually exist there?"]


    ["This is more mind-blowing than any movie."]


    The influx of international commentary poured gasoline on the hype.


    The only skepticism around the video¡¯s authenticity revolved around CGI¡ªno one doubted whether the scenes could¡¯ve been staged with props.


    Even a child could tell recreating this scale in reality would be near-impossible.


    Reluctant as many are to admit it, global audiences often assume Western VFX outshine China¡¯s. So when even foreign netizens found no flaws, the footage¡¯s credibility skyrocketed.


    ["So the dimensional portal¡¯s confirmed?! Does this mean we can all start cultivating now?!"


    ["I¡¯m in Shanghai¡ªrushed to the decoded location an hour ago. No portal, but some folks flew drones that got jammed and forced to land."]


    ["Drone jamming? Yeah, there¡¯s DEF something there."]


    ["^Not necessarily. Lots of venues in China legally block drones for privacy or events."]


    ["^A private site THAT massive? That¡¯s even weirder."]


    Notably, amid the frenzy, the show "Just Kidding" didn¡¯t go radio silent. Five hours later, they posted:


    ["We¡¯ve contacted Ou Zheng. The situation isn¡¯t what everyone assumes. Discussions are ongoing, and details will follow once resolved."]


    A denial? Hardly.


    This was kerosene on a bonfire.


    The statement all but confirmed this wasn¡¯t a scripted stunt¡ªthey had to reach Ou Zheng first, then negotiate with an unnamed third party before disclosing anything.


    Netizens were ecstatic!


    Netizens were clawing at their screens!


    Netizens wished they could fast-forward to the big reveal!


    Once the show chimed in, everyone knew answers like "Our world merged with a cultivation realm" were off the table.


    After all, as one prophetic comment put it:


    If it were fake, they would definitely deny it. If it were real, they would absolutely deny it too¡ªit¡¯s just a question of whether the excuse they use to debunk it would be convincing enough.


    Netizens came up with all sorts of wild guesses, mostly leaning toward advertising or the show¡¯s marketing tactics. Some particularly clever ones even speculated that this must be an ad for a special effects company.


    Then, the official denial came.


    The show¡¯s production team claimed that Ou Zheng had accidentally wandered onto a movie set¡¯s constructed filming site¡ªthose dragons and phoenixes were all props. As for the massive palace he saw, it was built by the crew for shooting convenience.


    Hundreds of people practicing swordplay? They were just extras rehearsing.


    And why couldn¡¯t anyone find the identity of the person captured in the final live-stream shot? Because they weren¡¯t a celebrity¡ªthey were a director working behind the scenes.


    The general public: "..."


    Did they smoothly accept this explanation and suddenly have an epiphany, going, "Oh, that makes sense"?


    Not a chance!


    Everyone¡¯s first reaction was: "Do you think we¡¯re three-year-olds? How could you throw such an obviously fake excuse at us?"


    A movie set? As if none of us have ever watched a TV drama before!


    Anyone who¡¯s been online knows what a real filming set looks like. There wasn¡¯t a single green screen in sight¡ªeverything was built with real materials. What kind of set is built like that?


    And a director? Since when do directors look that stunning?


    [Wow, this excuse is so half-hearted I can¡¯t even pretend to believe it.]


    [That dragon looked like it was about to leap out of the screen, and you¡¯re telling me it¡¯s a prop??]


    [LOL, hundreds of extras rehearsing¡ªI applaud your creativity.]


    [I¡¯ve lived this long and never seen a crew build an entire palace just for filming.]


    [Honestly, I¡¯d believe he time-traveled faster than I¡¯d believe this ¡®movie set¡¯ nonsense.]


    [Set? Prove it¡ªlet me see it with my own eyes.]


    After the show¡¯s denial, the official Weibo account was flooded at an unimaginable speed, with even some foreigners chiming in, angrily typing in broken, foreign-language-laced messages:


    [You think we¡¯ve never seen a film set before? Those were clearly real, living creatures!!!]


    At this point, even casual bystanders found the excuse laughably fake.


    Perhaps sensing the backlash, the production team quickly released Ou Zheng.


    On his Weibo account¡ªwhich had gained multiple times its usual followers in a single day¡ªOu Zheng posted a video.


    In it, he looked healthy and cheerful, greeting everyone with a smile:


    "Hello everyone, I¡¯m Ou Zheng. I really did accidentally walk onto a movie set. Guess I was just reckless¡ªthey set up a maze to keep people out, but I somehow stumbled right in."


    "The two cameramen got stopped outside. Go on, say hi to everyone."


    Behind him, the two cameramen waved awkwardly at the camera.


    Ou Zheng turned back to the lens: "I¡¯ve been brought back to the hotel by the production team. Sorry for disappearing¡ªmovie shoots require confidentiality.


    "Not only did I barge in, but I also live-streamed part of their set. Luckily, when the crew came to get me, they saw we were in the same industry and were pretty understanding. It took a lot of negotiation to settle things.


    "This really isn¡¯t what everyone¡¯s imagining¡ªno cultivation, no time travel. It was just a very elaborately built set for filming."


    Did the video convince the internet?


    Not at all.


    If anything, it made them even more suspicious.


    The conspiracy theorists: [Ou Zheng, were there armed guards standing next to you while you recorded this?]


    The evidence-based skeptics: [He¡¯s smiling the whole time¡ªthat¡¯s not a natural smile. He¡¯s trying to send us a message.]


    The overthinkers: [The cameramen¡¯s smiles look so stiff. Don¡¯t give me that ¡®they¡¯re not used to being on camera¡¯ crap¡ªI¡¯m not buying it.]


    The ?????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????detail-obsessed bystanders: [Why wasn¡¯t this video filmed where you were live-streaming? Why are you at a hotel instead of home? How was the set so realistic? Even big-budget movies with CGI don¡¯t look that grand. Care to explain? (munching popcorn)]


    The meme lords: [Stop overanalyzing! They said it¡¯s a movie set. With today¡¯s tech, it¡¯s totally possible to create effects like that. All this talk of time travel and cultivation¡ªthe world isn¡¯t that magical. (5 cents per post, delete the part in parentheses.)]


    Ou Zheng replied diligently to the flood of comments.


    [No, I¡¯m alone in the hotel. It really was just a set¡ªa very expensive one. I even ate a boxed lunch there!]


    [I always smile! Check my old videos if you don¡¯t believe me!]


    [The cameramen really aren¡¯t comfortable on camera¡ªI¡¯m not lying!!]


    [Movie sets are confidential before release. I already leaked part of it by live-streaming¡ªyou think I¡¯d be dumb enough to keep filming there? As for the hotel... I¡¯m still shooting the variety show tomorrow!!!]


    But the more earnest and quick his replies were, the less people believed him.


    The general sentiment: Keep denying it all you want¡ªwe won¡¯t believe a single word.


    The comment section practically radiated Ou Zheng¡¯s frustration. Finally, he gave up with:


    [Fine, wait here. I¡¯ll contact the crew¡ªif they debunk it, you¡¯ll believe them, right?]


    True to his word, Ou Zheng soon shared a live-stream link, accompanied by what seemed like a desperate plea:


    [The person at the end of my live-stream was the director¡ªyou¡¯ve seen her! She¡¯s going to explain everything LIVE, not pre-recorded! Then you¡¯ll know I¡¯m telling the truth!!!]


    This became the most explosive live-stream in recent memory.


    Countless viewers were booted out by server crashes the second they joined, stubbornly retrying until they finally got in.


    When they did, they saw a beautiful woman standing in front of a slowly swaying dragon tail, gently stroking it.


    As she petted the tail, she turned to explain:


    "This really is a prop made by our crew. It functions like a camera, tracking moving objects in its line of sight, which makes it seem alive."


    Viewers who managed to get in scrutinized her face¡ªand sure enough, she was the same woman from the live-stream.


    The woman introduced herself as Xu Man, the chief director of the film The Cultivator:


    "Everyone else is in period costumes, but I¡¯m in modern clothes because I¡¯m the director¡ªI don¡¯t need to rehearse. And the megaphone isn¡¯t some magical artifact; it¡¯s just a standard director¡¯s tool. I always carry it for convenience."


    She then led the camera to stand beneath a giant bird soaring overhead: "This is indeed a phoenix, but it¡¯s man-made¡ªusing drone technology. It can only fly short distances."


    "This turtle is obviously also a prop. It can''t even walk¡ªit''s just used as part of the background."


    "The giants are background elements too, so they mostly just walk around here. Let me unscrew a bolt to show you."


    By now, even the netizens who had firmly believed "this must be real" were starting to waver.


    The main reason was that almost every creature, big or small, they''d seen in the video had been exposed as "fake" by director Xu Man during the livestream.


    This included the hundreds of extras currently enjoying their snacks. Their faces had been recognized countless times before, so the moment they appeared on screen, they were instantly identified. Several young extras even eagerly stepped forward to "prove themselves."


    "I played a soldier in Legend of the Sentence, Episode 7, at the 32-minute-50-second mark. That should prove I''m an extra, right?"


    "Me too! I played a palace maid in Harem Beauties and even cross-dressed as a eunuch."


    "And me! I¡¯ve played a street vendor, a maid, and ''Random Passerby A'' in... well, you can just search for me!"


    Seizing this rare chance to be recognized by the public, the young extras were all enthusiastically volunteering. Some even pulled out their phones to play clips of their past roles in already-aired shows.


    Livestream viewers: "......"


    With such undeniable evidence, even those who desperately wanted to chant "I don¡¯t believe it!" had no choice but to accept the truth.


    The video had no special effects¡ªbecause everything was a physical prop.


    Ou Zheng hadn¡¯t lied¡ªbecause he¡¯d genuinely stumbled into the set unknowingly.


    The hundreds of "disciples" weren¡¯t fake¡ªbecause they were all real extras.


    Xu Man, who appeared on camera, wasn¡¯t an actress despite her stunning looks¡ªbecause, absurdly enough, she was the director.


    The truth was so coincidental, so ludicrous, that it felt even more unbelievable than the idea of a "portal between two worlds."


    This was beyond ridiculous!


    Who films a movie like this?!


    This wasn¡¯t just a set¡ªit was as if someone had ripped a celestial palace straight out of a cultivation novel and plopped it into reality.


    And the cost? Even those with no industry knowledge could tell: every single detail of this set was burning through money!


    All for a movie?!


    Compared to "filming a movie," the idea of "cultivators crossing worlds" was somehow easier to swallow!


    One stubborn netizen asked: If what you¡¯re saying is true, then why couldn¡¯t Ou Zheng get a phone signal to make calls? And how could he keep livestreaming without signal?!


    A lazy voice chimed in from off-screen: "Because we have Wi-Fi."


    "The signal here is terrible, so we set up Wi-Fi everywhere. No password¡ªjust connect."


    Xu Man smiled at the newcomer. "What brings you here?"


    "I came to join the fun. After all, I¡¯m an investor."


    The speaker stepped into frame and held up her phone to the camera, showing the connected Wi-Fi network: "Ethereal Palace 520." Below it, nine other networks with equally whimsical names like "Celestial Abode" were listed.


    Livestream viewers were stunned¡ªand not just by the Wi-Fi names.


    Holy crap!!! Sheng Quan?!


    Our CEO Sheng is an investor?!


    Now that Sheng Quan¡¯s involved, the insane budget suddenly makes sense.


    Wait, who¡¯s Sheng Quan? Another celebrity?


    For those who don¡¯t know our CEO Sheng: she once bought an entire skyscraper in downtown Shanghai just to house her company. She also donated 100 million in a charity entertainment show. This is the woman who lets fans binge entire series from her personal archive!


    With Sheng Quan¡¯s appearance, everything fell into place.


    After all, she had a well-documented history of throwing money at things.


    Sheng Quan leaned affectionately against Xu Man, their close friendship obvious:


    "The Cultivators is meant to be a surprise for audiences, but giving everyone a little sneak peek isn¡¯t bad either. Since you all love the set so much, we¡¯re feeling pretty confident now."


    "If you¡¯re into xianxia, check out The Cultivators when it releases. Sure, Ou Zheng¡¯s livestream spoiled a bit, but it¡¯s only a tiny fraction. The really intricate props we prepared are all on the other side¡ªcompletely unspoiled! So the viewing experience isn¡¯t ruined."


    Netizens were floored again.


    This jaw-dropping set was just a small part?!


    There¡¯s more?!


    Their disbelief instantly morphed into desperate anticipation.


    OMG!! When¡¯s the release date? I¡¯d watch this just for the sets!!!


    CEO Sheng¡¯s legendary!! Who even makes props like this?!


    I NEED to see this!! A movie so real everyone thought it was actual magic?!


    This is only a fraction?! I¡¯m officially hyped!


    Just let me see the film, and I¡¯ll 100% believe it¡¯s all props!


    Sheng Quan signaled to the crew handling the livestream:


    "Even though some of the set got leaked, consider this early publicity. A happy occasion¡ªlet¡¯s share some red packets for everyone to celebrate."


    The grand spectacle ended with Sheng Quan showering the chat in virtual red packets.


    The "rain" ranged from small sums many could grab to hefty amounts that left lucky winners grinning for days.


    Ou Zheng gained a massive follower boost from the incident, while the Just Laugh show scored exposure and permission to feature his footage in their next episode¡ªguaranteeing another win-win.


    As for The Cultivators crew? The film hadn¡¯t even premiered yet, but it had already ignited global anticipation.


    Audiences suddenly realized: they weren¡¯t opposed to xianxia films. Even if the plot was mediocre, they¡¯d gladly watch for the sheer spectacle.


    And this one might actually be good.


    The viral "search for immortals" even sparked a surge in cultivation novels and modern cross-world stories, single-handedly elevating the genre¡¯s popularity.


    Xu Man¡¯s career also got a noticeable bump from The Cultivators¡¯ audacious reveal, adding three months to Sheng Quan¡¯s "lifespan" in the process.


    The wildly successful marketing campaign emboldened investors, who began aggressively networking to maximize returns on their shared golden goose.


    The only unhappy parties? The paparazzi.


    After pinpointing the location, they¡¯d planned every angle for sneaky shots and uploads.


    Yet despite throwing every trick in the book, they came up empty.


    Disguised as drone hobbyists, the frustrated photographers ranted:


    "Why ban drones? This isn¡¯t even your private property!"


    The next day, when they returned, they noticed signs posted around the film set.


    ¡¾Private Property, No Entry¡¿


    The paparazzi: "..."


    After some investigation, everyone was stunned.


    This vast stretch of land, home to the grand celestial palace set...


    Actually belonged to Sheng Quan?!

 Chapter 39

    After learning that the immersive "cultivation paradise" also belonged to Sheng Quan, the first thought of netizens was:


    [So, after the movie finishes filming, can we visit? We¡¯ll pay!]


    [As long as the set stays, I¡¯ll gladly buy a movie ticket to support it!]


    [I¡¯d kill to experience Ou Zheng¡¯s life for a day¡ªplease, please, please!]


    Sheng Quan¡¯s early marketing for The Cultivator was initially met with skepticism from others. While emotional impact can drive impulsive spending, the movie wasn¡¯t even finished yet. By the most optimistic estimate, its release was still at least five months away.


    Using such an effective marketing strategy so early¡ªwhat would be left for later? Modern audiences have short memories. Without sustained momentum, The Cultivator risked fading into obscurity.


    But Sheng Quan proved that if the visuals were striking enough, people wouldn¡¯t forget. Instead, they¡¯d actively seek out every detail about the film during the wait.


    Of course, they needed material to explore.


    ¡ª"Most Chinese people harbor a xianxia (immortal heroes) fantasy¡ªmyself included."


    Sheng Quan scrolled through a web novel page:


    "So I threw money at online writers to commission xianxia stories, funded variety shows with xianxia themes, hired comic artists for short xianxia strips, and paid influencers for xianxia transformation videos. Makes perfect sense, right?"


    Xu Man gave a thumbs-up, her admiration as straightforward as ever:


    "You¡¯re on another level. Others promote movies¡ªyou¡¯re reviving an entire genre."


    Yes, this was Sheng Quan¡¯s grand plan all along.


    ¡ªTo bring xianxia, a genre long forgotten, back into the spotlight.


    Xianxia¡¯s popularity had waned? Worried The Cultivator would flop as a result?


    Simple. Just reignite the genre¡¯s hype.


    Movie promotions thrive on momentum? Then keep the fire burning.


    That was Sheng Quan¡¯s logic.


    Of course, this approach wasn¡¯t for everyone¡ªnot many could afford to throw money around as recklessly as Chairwoman Sheng.


    Lying sprawled on the couch with a lollipop in her mouth, Sheng Quan read a novel with zero regard for decorum.


    "¡®Reckless¡¯? The people I picked are genuinely talented. Look, we¡¯re already seeing results."


    As a long-time consumer of fiction and media, Sheng Quan might not be a creator herself, but her discerning eye had been honed over years.


    Plus, The Cultivator was a company project. With one word from her, teams of professionals would vet and select the most suitable collaborators.


    As ?????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????a flood of xianxia-themed works hit the market, even those who hadn¡¯t witnessed the "transdimensional experience" might convert into fans.


    And these fans would, in turn, spur the creation of even more xianxia content.


    By the time The Cultivator premiered, theaters would be packed with eager xianxia enthusiasts.


    Once Xu Man pieced this together, she felt both exhilarated by the "built-in audience" and a twinge of anxiety:


    "You¡¯ve set the stage so grandly¡ªwhat if my final product doesn¡¯t live up to it? All your money and effort on The Cultivator would go to waste."


    If the movie turned out mediocre or flopped, Sheng Quan¡¯s entire strategy would collapse.


    Sheng Quan set her phone aside and looked over, baffled:


    "Have I not seen your previous films? Even with shoestring budgets and limited resources, you delivered solid work. Now, with funding, equipment, and talent, how could your skills possibly fail?"


    Xu Man smiled faintly but still hesitated. "You really believe in me that much?"


    "If I didn¡¯t, why would I invest so much?" Sheng Quan¡¯s tone was firm. "I¡¯m rich, not stupid. Investments are for profit. If you hadn¡¯t shown me the highest potential return, why would I pick you out of all the directors in the world?"


    This wasn¡¯t just lip service. Even knowing The Cultivator would eventually succeed, Sheng Quan had thoroughly studied Xu Man¡¯s past works before committing.


    Seeing Sheng Quan¡¯s genuine confidence, Xu Man finally relaxed:


    "Some online comments got to me. You know how it is¡ªcompared to veteran directors, my credentials are still lacking."


    Sheng Quan couldn¡¯t resist poking Xu Man¡¯s cheek as the latter sighed. Even sighing, the woman was effortlessly stunning.


    This was an unspoken detail from the original novel. Xu Man might act carefree, but criticism weighed on her, stirring self-doubt.


    The book never revealed this "weakness." To the public, she was always unshakable¡ªeven in her final moments, outnumbered and fatally wounded, she took down three enemies and left two severely injured.


    Sheng Quan couldn¡¯t tell whether the Xu Man in the book had simply concealed her feelings or if she had already "grown" by the time she appeared. But one thing was certain¡ªit felt good to be able to help someone during their "growth" process.


    "Isn¡¯t this further proof of your talent? There are so many directors with more experience than you, yet I chose to invest in you specifically."


    Sheng Quan had also experienced moments of self-doubt due to others¡¯ opinions, and she had to admit, it was a terrible feeling. Back then, no one had comforted her, but at least now, she could offer that comfort to someone else.


    "Don¡¯t be upset. Your skills are the result of your own hard work¡ªno one can take that away. And as long as you can look yourself in the mirror and say you¡¯ve done your best, that¡¯s what matters."


    She patted Xu Man¡¯s shoulder and asked seriously, "Do you feel you¡¯ve done your best?"


    Ever since The Cultivator officially entered pre-production, Xu Man hadn¡¯t had a single day of rest, sleeping no more than seven hours a night¡ªand that was only because Sheng Quan had enforced the rule after learning from Director Wan¡¯s past mistakes.


    During the establishment of the Ten Great Immortal Palaces, Xu Man had led the crew across the country, filming in remote mountains, camping under waterfalls, encountering snakes in the grass, and enduring leech bites. The mosquito bites on her skin never had time to fade before she was flying back for promotional events, then rushing off again to resume filming after live broadcasts.


    Reading about a genius director¡¯s glory was one thing, but witnessing it firsthand made it clear¡ªno success came without sweat and sacrifice.


    Sure enough, when Sheng Quan posed the question, Xu Man¡¯s gaze instantly steadied. "I¡¯ve done my best."


    "Then there¡¯s no problem," Sheng Quan said.


    Xu Man couldn¡¯t help but hug her. "Thank you! I know what to do now!"


    And with that renewed energy, she filmed for eight straight days, completing the most challenging large-scale scenes.


    To express her gratitude, Director Xu, now free from her earlier uncertainty, insisted on dragging Sheng Quan to watch the most thrilling fight sequences, even promising her the best viewing spot in the future if she enjoyed them.


    Sheng Quan sighed, "Stop picking up bad habits from Yu Xiangwan."


    But despite her words, she ended up watching the most intense fight scenes for several days in a row.


    In Sheng Quan¡¯s previous world, well... fight scenes were rarely impressive, and actors who didn¡¯t use stunt doubles were even rarer. There were exceptions, of course, but they were few and far between, and most never gained much fame.


    This world was slightly better¡ªat least the entertainment industry was fiercely competitive, with everyone eager to maintain their physique.


    Even the hundreds of extras here were all good-looking and in great shape.


    Most were highly motivated, too, taking body conditioning and martial arts classes with intense focus. When they weren¡¯t filming, they practiced together in groups.


    And for those who weren¡¯t initially enthusiastic? The moment they realized that Sheng Quan, the biggest investor on set, loved watching fight scenes, they suddenly discovered a deep passion for martial arts training.


    After all, there was already a shining example right in front of them¡ªYuan He.


    Yes, that nineteen-year-old boy with exceptional combat skills, the one Sheng Quan had spotted at a glance.


    Before joining The Cultivator, Yuan He had been just another minor extra, though his fight scenes stood out enough that he often landed roles where he got beaten up or served as a stunt double.


    Most crews didn¡¯t care if an extra got genuinely hurt, and since Yuan He frequently took such roles, his body was always covered in bruises. On bad days, the pain lingered for days, but he couldn¡¯t afford hospital visits¡ªrubbing on some medicated wine was his only remedy.


    He was willing to endure hardship, but his talent alone wasn¡¯t striking enough to catch anyone¡¯s eye. Without intervention, he¡¯d likely have remained a high-level extra for life.


    During training, Yuan He was the most diligent of them all, practicing every move to perfection even though his role barely required it.


    Some had mocked him¡ªWhy bother? You¡¯ll only get a few seconds of screen time.


    But then, Sheng Quan noticed how beautifully he wielded a sword and gave him a role with substantial dialogue and fight scenes.


    After a talk with supervisor Yu Xiangwan, Starlight Entertainment sent someone that very day to sign him on the spot.


    Starlight Entertainment¡ªSheng Quan¡¯s company!


    The envy among the other extras was palpable.


    Though Starlight had been around for less than a year, every artist under its banner was at least moderately famous, and their roster was astonishingly small compared to other agencies. That meant any newcomer had a high chance of being groomed for success.


    To the extras, Yuan He¡¯s rise was nothing short of meteoric.


    The most frustrating part? Yuan He was terrible at flattery. Knowing Sheng Quan was his benefactor, his idea of gratitude was to train even harder¡ªclumsy, earnest, and utterly devoid of sweet talk.


    When praised, he¡¯d just grin sheepishly, then redouble his efforts without a single polished word.


    The other extras watched in agony.


    If you don¡¯t know how to suck up, step aside! Let us take your place!


    Driven by the hope that "If I work hard enough, maybe Sheng Quan will notice me too," every extra in The Cultivator gave their all¡ªno matter how lax they might have been in other productions.


    Especially when Sheng Quan came around to observe, the actors'' performance levels could skyrocket from 100% to 150% in an instant. Their eyes burned with unwavering determination during fight scenes¡ªgive them a demon-subduing staff, and they¡¯d practically soar into the sky to vanquish monsters on the spot.


    Xu Man dubbed this the "Sheng Quan Effect."


    She couldn¡¯t help but ask curiously, "When you promoted Yuan He, did you already foresee this happening?"


    Sheng Quan replied, "...I really just thought his fight scenes were good and decided to give him a hand."


    Seeing Xu Man¡¯s skeptical "Really? I don¡¯t buy it" expression, Sheng Quan sighed. "Do you think I plan ten steps ahead for everything?"


    Xu Man nodded.


    Sheng Quan: "..."


    Fine, she did have that habit.


    Back when she was a corporate drone, it was for the sake of her salary. Now? It was her own venture¡ªof course she¡¯d put even more heart into it.


    System 006 had issued the mission days ago, but Sheng Quan still hadn¡¯t settled on a candidate for sponsorship.


    The Cultivator was destined to be a massive hit. If she could place her next beneficiary on this rising ship, it¡¯d be a win-win.


    But The Cultivator was unique¡ªfinding someone who fit all the criteria wasn¡¯t easy.


    Lost in thought, Sheng Quan¡¯s gaze unconsciously landed on Yuan He, who was currently suspended on wires, executing a sharp, gravity-defying descent with icy precision.


    Then, her eyes slowly lit up.


    Once Yuan He finished filming, Sheng Quan casually strolled over, striking up a conversation.


    "Yuan He, that last take was excellent."


    The praise caught the young actor off guard the moment he landed. Still green and easily flustered, his eyes sparkled with shy excitement. "Thank you, Chairwoman Sheng."


    Sheng Quan patted his shoulder approvingly.


    Don¡¯t misunderstand¡ªshe wasn¡¯t considering Yuan He.


    Though he was impressive, reaching 100% career success would be a stretch for him.


    What she wanted to ask was: "You seem to have solid fundamentals. Did you teach yourself?"


    The guileless young man answered without hesitation. "When I first started, a martial arts instructor noticed I was struggling and taught me a few moves."


    He paused, then added, "He also showed me how to protect myself on set, but I didn¡¯t get to learn much before the crew changed."


    Sheng Quan smiled. "Oh? A martial arts instructor, huh? If he taught you, he must be quite skilled. What¡¯s his name? Do you know how to contact him?"


    On the set of A Flower¡¯s Tale, a black-clad stuntman let out a pained cry before collapsing to the ground, twitching a few times before going still.


    "Cut!"


    The director clapped. "Good, that¡¯s a wrap. Everyone, go eat."


    The stuntman clutched his stomach as he slowly sat up, still recovering, when an ice pack was tossed into his lap.


    He picked it up and pressed it to the sore spot, then looked up at the newcomer with a grateful smile. "Thanks, Master Jiang."


    Jiang Zhen frowned slightly at how much effort it took for the man to stand. Popping a lollipop into his mouth, he reached out and hauled the stuntman up effortlessly, his strong arms easily bearing the other¡¯s weight.


    "Didn¡¯t I teach you? How to disperse the impact."


    The stuntman winced but shrugged it off. "It¡¯s fine. This way looks better on camera. If I perform well, maybe I¡¯ll get more scenes."


    "Your body¡¯s the only one you¡¯ve got. Don¡¯t abuse it just because you¡¯re young."


    Despite his scolding tone, Jiang Zhen supported the man as they walked. "Come on, let¡¯s get some medicated oil on that."


    "I can handle it myself, Master Jiang. You should go grab lunch before it gets cold."


    The stuntman tried to pull away, but Jiang Zhen easily held him in place.


    With his buzz cut and intimidating aura, even his helpful words came out like a threat: "Quit fussing. Without proper treatment, you¡¯ll be in agony tonight."


    "But the lunch break¡ª"


    "I¡¯m having instant noodles today."


    After treating the young man¡¯s injury and enduring his repeated thanks, Jiang Zhen clicked his tongue in mock annoyance. Before leaving, though, he fished out a sausage from his pocket and tossed it to him.


    "Eat up."


    As he walked away, he glanced back and added,


    "Next time, remember¡ªdisperse the force."


    The sausage might not have been much, but the cost was clear: Jiang Zhen¡¯s beef-flavored instant noodles would now be missing its perfect companion.


    The set conditions were rough. Finding a random spot, he settled on a wooden plank and dug into his meal, pressed for time.


    Two extras watched from a distance, whispering gossip:


    "Master Jiang¡¯s got those broad shoulders, narrow waist, and legs for days¡ªnot to mention he¡¯s handsome. Why¡¯s he a martial arts instructor instead of acting?"


    The veteran extra lowered his voice. "You didn¡¯t know? He used to be a stuntman, even had some fame back then. Rumor has it he was insanely dedicated. But during a shoot, his wire snapped¡ªfell from high up and was disabled for years. The production refused to take responsibility or compensate. They say he was bedridden for ages."


    "What?! Why didn¡¯t he sue?!"


    The veteran extra shook his head: "He sued, but it was all in the past. It just turned into a drawn-out mess. Teacher Jiang Zhen apparently spent five or six years bedridden, pushing through rehab and training¡ªno one knows how much suffering he endured to recover to the state he¡¯s in now."


    "But by the time he got better, the era of martial arts actors was over. Who even wants martial arts these days? Those who still do it either work as stunt doubles or extras. Even if they¡¯re hiring, they¡¯re looking for young faces¡ªwho¡¯d pick someone pushing forty? He¡¯d trained in martial arts since he was a kid¡ªswitching careers isn¡¯t that easy. So, well... this is all he can do now."


    They whispered behind his back as Jiang Zhen finished his instant noodles¡ªsans ham¡ªat lightning speed, tossed the cup into the trash, and strode off without a glance back.


    The younger extra shrank nervously. "Uncle, I think he glanced our way. I heard Teacher Jiang trained in martial arts since childhood¡ªhis hearing¡¯s crazy sharp. Do you think he heard us?"


    The old extra hesitated. "...Nah, no way. We¡¯re too far away."


    Jiang Zhen had indeed heard, but he didn¡¯t care. He¡¯d long grown numb to such talk.


    Just as he was about to get back to work, the assistant director suddenly rushed toward him, phone in hand, face lit up with excitement.


    Even though the path was wide, Jiang Zhen instinctively sidestepped slightly.


    In a film crew, you had to be sharp¡ªeveryone was busy, and blocking the way meant delays, which often earned you a scolding.


    But the moment the assistant director spotted him, his eyes brightened, and his syrupy tone sent shivers down Jiang Zhen¡¯s spine:


    "Jiang Zhen!! There you are! Quick, come here¡ªsomeone¡¯s looking for you."

 Chapter 40

    Jiang Zhen sat rigidly across from Sheng Quan.


    Even though he had already asked over the phone, he couldn¡¯t help but ask again:


    ¡°You¡¯re hiring me to act, not as a martial arts director?¡±


    Sheng Quan handed him a script excerpt: ¡°Of course it¡¯s for acting. Aren¡¯t you an actor?¡±


    A flicker of realization passed over Jiang Zhen¡¯s handsome face. He wanted to say, ¡°Of course not, I don¡¯t act anymore,¡± but after his long, powerful fingers unconsciously tapped his knee a few times, he still took the script.


    It was just a fragment of the script, light in weight, but at this moment, Jiang Zhen felt it was as heavy as a thousand pounds.


    He knew full well¡ªthe era of martial arts actors had passed. Nowadays, which production team didn¡¯t use stunt doubles for fight scenes? Even if actors did perform, they could just learn temporarily.


    Yet in this environment, a production team had specifically asked for him.


    But when opportunity came, how could he not seize it?


    Suppressing the turmoil in his heart, Jiang Zhen met Sheng Quan¡¯s gaze, his dark eyes gradually firming with resolve: ¡°Yes, I am an actor.¡±


    Sheng Quan wasn¡¯t actually very familiar with Jiang Zhen.


    In the book, his first appearance was at his funeral. The most dazzling martial arts star of the era had passed away, and when Yuan He attended the service, he couldn¡¯t help but lament that good people never lived long.


    And it was true. Jiang Zhen had died while filming, when a young actor¡¯s wire snapped. He had tried to save them, falling together.


    With no parents, no children, and no ties to this world, Jiang Zhen had left just like that. His last words before his final breath were to the young actor he had shielded:


    ¡°Are you okay?¡±


    Some said that in that moment, Jiang Zhen might have also been trying to save his younger self.


    Because he had once struggled through pain, he didn¡¯t want to see the next generation become like him.


    Jiang Zhen had risen to fame at 47 and died at 49¡ªlike a firework, brief yet brilliant.


    From the very first moment of the audition, even Sheng Quan, an outsider, could tell Jiang Zhen had undeniable screen presence.


    Clearly, he had never stopped practicing, because no one who hadn¡¯t acted in nearly two decades could slip into character so effortlessly.


    Of course, she wasn¡¯t the only one watching. The casting directors sat beside her, and the moment Jiang Zhen began, their expressions shifted subtly.


    The role he was auditioning for was Taoist Xingyun¡ªa Taoist who sought enlightenment not through cultivation but through the body.


    ¡°Through the body¡± meant: no spiritual energy, just pure skill.


    The character had to hold his own against cultivators with cheat-like abilities.


    A mortal¡¯s body, yet capable of rivaling immortals.


    No spiritual energy meant no flashy techniques¡ªevery move had to be something a mortal could execute, yet so formidable it visibly surpassed magic.


    Key point: To best showcase this, the role would have no special effects. The actor had to rely entirely on their own skills.


    When the casting director first saw the requirements, he nearly stormed off to yell at the screenwriter:


    ¡°This is a movie!! Not an anime!!! How am I supposed to find someone like this?!¡±


    The screenwriter, though mild-mannered, refused to budge:


    ¡°This character is compelling and drives most of the plot. Whoever plays him will skyrocket to fame.¡±


    The casting director: ¡°...¡±


    Sure, anyone who played the role would blow up¡ªif such an actor even existed.


    With martial arts in decline and no new talent being trained, where was he supposed to look?


    He had sworn to the screenwriter that no such actor existed in the entire entertainment industry, suggesting they might have better luck abroad¡ªmaybe bleach a foreign actor¡¯s hair black and give him colored contacts?


    And now, watching Jiang Zhen¡¯s strikes literally cutting through the air with a sharp whistle, the casting director quietly buried his past declarations.


    Chairwoman Sheng was incredible.


    How had she even found someone like this?


    With the role that had tormented him for so long finally filled, the casting director was overjoyed, itching to shower Sheng Quan with a hundred compliments.


    Meanwhile, Sheng Quan, deemed ¡°incredible,¡± was thoroughly engrossed.


    Jiang Zhen wore simple, loose-fitting pants and a long-sleeved shirt, the sleeves rolled up to reveal tanned, well-defined forearms. His powerful legs were a sight to behold as they sliced through the air.


    A sheen of sweat glistened over his sun-kissed skin like highlighter, especially when his movements exposed the faint outline of his abdominal muscles. His belt¡ªa rare cloth sash¡ªcinched his narrow waist, accentuating his lean yet taut physique.


    Broad shoulders, a narrow waist, long legs¡ªthough not overly bulky, the moment he began the scene, he exuded a feral intensity, as if he could take down a bull barehanded.


    That gaze¡ªwild and ruthless¡ªwas a perfect match for Taoist Xingyun.


    Sheng Quan had never been particularly drawn to this type before, mainly because she had never encountered anyone like Jiang Zhen in her past life. Yet after just one scene, she was already itching to have him perform eighty more.


    So handsome. So mesmerizing.


    No wonder wild, untamed male leads were so popular in novels. This kind of raw energy was intoxicating.


    She¡¯d have to find some similar novels to binge tonight.


    When Jiang Zhen finally stopped, applause broke out. Still radiating heat, he looked up to see the young woman at the head of the table gazing at him with unmistakable admiration.


    She didn¡¯t hesitate: ¡°Brilliant! The role is yours.¡±


    That... simple?


    A rare flicker of disbelief crossed Jiang Zhen¡¯s sharp, deep-set eyes. Having been burned before, his first reaction to such sudden good fortune was wariness.


    Maybe it was a shady contract. Maybe the terms were exploitative. The smoother things seemed, the colder his guarded expression became.


    But when Sheng Quan stood and circled him, studying him with genuine interest, the tall man instinctively held his breath, forcing himself to relax.


    She seemed so young. He didn¡¯t want to scare her.


    Fully aware of his own ¡°intimidating¡± appearance, Jiang Zhen kept his gaze lowered¡ªonly to realize Sheng Quan wasn¡¯t the least bit afraid. On the contrary, her eyes shone with open appreciation.


    Yes, Sheng Quan admired this near-perfect form.


    No wonder Jiang Zhen had managed to rise against all odds in the book. His talent was undeniable.


    If even someone like her, who had never been into the ¡°wild and untamed¡± type, could be captivated, it was easy to imagine the heights his career would reach.


    She desperately wanted to poke, to touch¡ªbut this was the real world, not some anime where she could gush ¡°AWSL must touch!¡± without consequence. Regretfully, she held back.


    Clearing her throat, Sheng Quan said, ¡°You¡¯ve kept yourself in excellent shape. You¡¯ll need to maintain that in the production. We¡¯ll assign you a nutritionist and trainers¡ªdiet and exercise will be strictly managed. Can you accept that?¡±


    Though his past experiences made him skeptical of such sudden windfalls, Jiang Zhen found himself nodding at Sheng Quan¡¯s friendly, appreciative demeanor.


    His voice, slightly hoarse from exertion, came out even deeper and more magnetic:


    ¡°I can. May I see the contract?¡±


    (Even his raspier tone was somehow more attractive. Damn.)


    Sheng Quan couldn¡¯t help but fantasize about the glorious future where Jiang Zhen would become a massive star, bringing in endless streams of money for her, all while mentally noting that she absolutely must commission a novel featuring a rugged, wild male lead tonight.


    Sign him!


    She had to sign him!


    If Sheng Quan had initially decided on Jiang Zhen purely because of the book¡¯s ending, witnessing his skills firsthand made her realize that the decline of martial arts actors was nothing short of a downgrade in audience aesthetics.


    Not only did President Sheng sign Jiang Zhen, but after discussions with the screenwriter and Xu Man, she also decided to revamp the entire Taoist sect¡ªwhere Taoist Xingyun belonged¡ªinto a "sheer force overcomes all" style before filming even began.


    And so, this day became one etched deeply into the memories of many martial arts actors who had either switched careers or were struggling to make ends meet.


    In a cramped, low-rent apartment, Ai Xiao, forty years old, returned home exhausted after a long day¡¯s work. Catching sight of her reflection in the full-length mirror by the door¡ªher muscles taut with even the slightest exertion¡ªshe let out a bitter laugh and tossed her clothes over the mirror.


    Decades of relentless training had ultimately left her obsolete.


    Just as she was about to throw together a simple meal, her phone rang. Listlessly answering, Ai Xiao froze in disbelief at the voice on the other end before whirling around:


    "A screen test? For The Cultivator?"


    Meanwhile, Qin Kai, pulling an all-nighter on set, also picked up a call: "A screen test for The Cultivator? For a martial arts role? Yes, yes, I¡¯ll be there on time."


    In an ordinary household of three, Zhao Xuehan hung up the phone and rushed back to her room, planting a kiss on her sleeping daughter¡¯s cheek. Her husband stirred groggily: "What¡¯s going on?"


    "They want me for a screen test¡ªspecifically for a martial arts role. It¡¯s a big production, and the pay is great." Her voice trembled with excitement. "I¡¯m already in my thirties, and they sought me out. Unless I mess up, it¡¯s practically a done deal."


    That night, countless martial arts actors tossed and turned in exhilaration. Most were well past thirty, faultless in their craft, even exemplary¡ªyet cast aside by the times.


    And ?????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????now, it seemed a new era was dawning.


    After securing Jiang Zhen, spending the money became much easier.


    This was precisely why Sheng Quan wanted to funnel her next investment into The Cultivator¡ªshe could channel the funds right back into the production.


    But first, she took Jiang Zhen for a medical checkup.


    A renowned hospital, naturally, came with a hefty price tag.


    When the doctor announced, "You can recover up to ninety percent of normal mobility," the towering man¡ªeven seated¡ªflinched slightly, his lashes trembling with emotion.


    After the accident, he had been bedridden for five years, followed by a decade of rehabilitation. No matter how hard he pushed himself, seventy percent was the best he could manage.


    And now, hope lay right before him.


    Jiang Zhen wanted the treatment, but the exorbitant cost gave him pause.


    Sheng Quan, who had brought him here, seemed to read his thoughts. The young, stunningly beautiful woman¡ªwho seemed to belong to a world entirely separate from his¡ªsmiled playfully:


    "Then earn it back for me."


    "I want to make Xingmang the absolute best in the world. And the best company deserves the best artists. You¡¯ve got what it takes, right?"


    Jiang Zhen met her gaze, the sharp edges in his eyes¡ªusually reserved and unyielding¡ªnow alight with rekindled ambition and confidence.


    A man who could stage a comeback at forty-seven was never one to settle.


    And now, someone believed in him.


    So why shouldn¡¯t he believe in her?


    The towering figure bowed his head before Sheng Quan, every ounce of his formidable presence subdued in her presence, like a beast sheathing its claws and fangs.


    His heart burned with fervor as he pledged, wholeheartedly:


    "I will become the finest artist under your command."

 Chapter 41

    At present, it seems Jiang Zhen would be the one whose career progresses the fastest under her guidance. Compared to the others who are still green and inexperienced, he¡¯s already mature enough to require little further polishing.


    Sheng Quan sipped her lemon water, watching Jiang Zhen on set¡ªhis every move effortlessly captivating. Unable to resist, she turned to ask the driver behind her, "Brother Jiang, if you fought him, who would win?"


    Jiang Lu, usually silent, glanced at Jiang Zhen and answered, "I would." After a pause, he added, "But he looks better in a fight."


    Sheng Quan wasn¡¯t too surprised. After all, Jiang Zhen was a martial arts actor. If every move of his were lethally effective, his co-stars would be in trouble.


    As for Jiang Lu, she¡¯d only seen him fight once, but that single encounter had left a deep impression. His movements were minimal, yet each one carried deadly precision.


    Though she¡¯d already revealed her wealth, Sheng Quan hadn¡¯t encountered any kidnapping attempts¡ªpartly because the country maintained tight security measures, and partly because Jiang Lu had likely preemptively eliminated such risks.


    Sheng Quan loved exploring, and whenever she did, Jiang Lu would quietly follow, meticulously planning her route to avoid any potential dangers.


    To put it mildly: it was an overwhelming sense of security.


    After six months of hard work, the widely recognized wealthy CEO Sheng Quan had finally saved up enough to consider hiring personal bodyguards.


    These past months had been indulgent¡ªshe¡¯d enjoyed the best treatment wherever she went¡ªbut saving money? Well, that was another story.


    Most of her investments followed long-term development strategies, meaning profits would take time. And she always aimed for perfection, often dipping into her personal savings to fund new ventures.


    The road had been winding, but the destination was rewarding. After half a year of effort, Sheng Quan finally entered her profit phase¡ªthough the money kept flowing out just as fast (film crews were expensive). Still, she was no longer penniless.


    With sincerity, Sheng Quan laid out her thoughts to Jiang Lu:


    "I don¡¯t just want to hire you long-term as my bodyguard¡ªI also want to bring you on as a consultant for the new security company I¡¯m opening. I know you have connections with many retired soldiers, like those brothers who helped out last time."


    "This company will serve me and the artists under Starlight Entertainment. If we expand, we might also take on other public figures. Here¡¯s the draft contract outlining the terms. You can review it first."


    As soon as she finished, her assistant promptly handed over three contracts: one for Jiang Lu¡¯s personal employment, one for the consultant role, and the last for standard security personnel.


    Surprise flickered in Jiang Lu¡¯s eyes. He wasn¡¯t shocked by Sheng Quan¡¯s offer to hire him privately¡ªshe¡¯d mentioned it before.


    Frankly, Sheng Quan was an ideal employer. She never ordered him around for trivial tasks, always included him at meals, and was cheerful, emotionally steady, and free of bad habits¡ªeven a bit of a health enthusiast.


    She called him "Brother Jiang," invited him to watch shows together, thanked him with a smile, gave him red envelopes, shared fruit with him, and sometimes, when she spotted beautiful flowers or trees by the roadside, she¡¯d excitedly pull out her phone to take pictures.


    In those moments, Jiang Lu would instinctively slow the car.


    Somehow, seeing Sheng Quan so happy while taking photos eased his own mood.


    Since leaving the military, Jiang Lu had learned one lesson well: "self-preservation." He never meddled in his employers¡¯ private affairs¡ªthose who did usually ended up regretting it.


    But Sheng Quan was different.


    She wasn¡¯t just a good employer; she was a good person.


    So during the "Lin Aike Crisis," when Sheng Quan erupted in fury for the first time, Jiang Lu broke his own rules for the first time too.


    He¡¯d already prepared to follow her, but he hadn¡¯t expected her to place even more trust in him than he¡¯d anticipated.


    It was obvious this security company would become Sheng Quan¡¯s strongest layer of personal protection.


    As a consultant, bringing in his former comrades meant the company¡¯s foundation would essentially be built through him. Such responsibility could only come from deep trust.


    When Jiang Lu looked at her in astonishment, Sheng Quan gave him an encouraging smile. "Do your best."


    "After the incident with Aike, when we all had supper together, I started thinking about this. I trust your judgment completely. As for benefits¡ªhealth insurance, meal allowances, transportation subsidies, year-end bonuses, pensions¡ªwe¡¯ll cover everything."


    Last time?


    Jiang Lu immediately understood why Sheng Quan wanted him to recruit. After leaving the police station that day, she must have overheard their conversation¡ªhow retired soldiers like them struggled to find suitable work, caught between unrealistic expectations and limited opportunities.


    She¡¯d listened, remembered, and was now offering a solution.


    Even though, to her, he was just a driver.


    The man accustomed to silence couldn¡¯t quite articulate the emotions swirling in his chest, managing only to force out a single sentence:


    "Miss Sheng, thank you."


    "You¡¯re welcome. Someone as capable as you deserves to shine."


    Sheng Quan patted Jiang Lu¡¯s shoulder¡ªthey were familiar enough now for such casual gestures.


    Though she did have to raise her arm a bit higher than usual, which was slightly tiring.


    Establishing a security company was inevitable. While Sheng Quan knew her pockets weren¡¯t exactly overflowing (compared to the image she projected), to others, she appeared exceedingly wealthy.


    And she was absolutely certain she¡¯d grow even richer in the future.


    Leaving aside the steadily increasing funds from the system, just the way she was diversifying her investments under such financial backing made becoming the wealthiest person a very real possibility.


    ¡ªSheng Quan had complete confidence in her future affluence.


    If she could claw her way up from rock bottom in her past life, there was no reason she couldn¡¯t soar now with ample funds, loyal subordinates, and a roster of talented individuals.


    Thus, having a fully controlled security system was essential.


    Unbeknownst to her, as her thoughts wandered, Jiang Lu silently lowered his stance just enough to make it easier for her arm to reach his shoulder.


    When Jiang Lu submitted his resignation, the hotel management wasn¡¯t surprised. It wasn¡¯t the first time a guest had been so impressed with their staff that they offered private employment.


    In fact, they took pride in it¡ªproof of their exceptional service.


    His colleagues, however, were both envious and shocked.


    "Several guests tried to hire you before, but you always refused, saying you¡¯d never accept private employment. What changed?"


    Jiang Lu had little to pack, just a single backpack slung over his shoulder. His sharp, cold features stood out even more in his streamlined attire.


    "Miss Sheng is different."


    "How? Don¡¯t you remember what happened to Ke? He got dragged into his boss¡¯s brawl and ended up in prison for years. Ours is a young man¡¯s game¡ªyou can¡¯t work for her forever."


    Jiang Lu was already pushing the door open when he paused at those words.


    "Exactly."


    Then he strode forward, long legs carrying him away without another glance.


    His colleagues blinked, slow to process. "Damn, he really plans to work for Miss Sheng his whole life?"


    That day, Jiang Lu made countless calls.


    ¡ª"Instructor, you serious? A job this good? I¡¯m in! Absolutely in!"


    ¡ª"Brother Jiang, I trust you. Packing my bags now."


    ¡ª"You¡¯re sure they want female bodyguards? Alright, booking my ticket. If this pans out, drinks are on me."


    On the day Sheng Quan gave him leave, Jiang Lu reached out to many¡ªsome he hadn¡¯t spoken to in years. Yet nearly all agreed immediately after hearing the company¡¯s terms.


    Finally, he made one last call.


    The voice on the other end erupted into a stream of complaints the moment he finished speaking:


    "Disappear after discharge, then pop up out of nowhere asking me to be some security consultant¡ªnot even a ¡®how¡¯ve you been?¡¯"


    "You ghost everyone, even me. How¡¯s the injury? Still hurt when it rains? Nightmares?"


    The mention of Jiang Lu¡¯s reason for calling only fueled the older man¡¯s grumbling:


    "Stubborn as ever. A bodyguard? You were top of the elite¡ªhow¡¯d you fall this far?"


    "Hezi¡¯s death wasn¡¯t your fault. He died for his country. In that situation, saving him was impossible. You surviving was a miracle, understand?"


    Jiang Lu gazed at the horizon. "Yeah, I know."


    "No ?????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????more nightmares. I¡¯m busy now¡ªmy employer loves to travel. I¡¯ve seen so many places with her, met so many people. She gave me the day off, so I called."


    It was the most he¡¯d spoken in years, like a recovered patient reporting progress to his doctor:


    "The injury doesn¡¯t flare up much in the rain anymore. My employer insists on regular check-ups for her team¡ªshe took me even before I officially joined. Still in treatment. She booked me a therapist, but I tried once and quit. Old habits¡ªcan¡¯t let my guard down with a stranger."


    The voice on the line fell silent, listening as Jiang Lu recounted the mundane details of his half-year¡ªhow well he slept now, how his employer once gifted him flowers, thinking he liked them. How beautiful that bouquet had been.


    Jiang Lu spoke at length, unprompted.


    The man on the other end listened, patient.


    Finally, he said, "When you left, I asked if you truly wanted to go. You said yes."


    "But now, I don¡¯t need to ask if you¡¯ve truly accepted being a bodyguard."


    His voice carried the weight of a long-held burden finally released¡ªa sigh of relief.


    "Jiang Lu, I''m so happy."


    "As for being a security consultant or something like that, I think I''ll pass. I''m already getting on in years."


    "If there''s a chance, though, I''d like to meet your employer. The fact that you''re even trying to recruit me for her¡ªshe must be a wonderful person."


    After a pause, the division commander suddenly remembered: "By the way, you''re a consultant too, right? What''s your salary?"


    Jiang Lu mentioned a figure, along with the benefits.


    Silence from the other end.


    Then¡ª


    "You know what? I suddenly feel like it¡¯s never too late to strive for more. Being a consultant at my age would actually be quite impressive."


    "Send me the address. I¡¯ll go meet our employer right away."

 Chapter 42

    Sheng Quan had long suspected that Jiang Lu was quite an impressive retired soldier, but she hadn¡¯t expected him to be even more remarkable than she imagined.


    "Division-level officer..."


    She nearly snapped the stick of her candied hawthorn in shock.


    This was someone with an official military rank¡ªeven after retirement, his pension would be more than comfortable. Yet, a high-ranking officer like this was actually willing to work as a security consultant for her.


    Jiang Lu explained, "Retired officers are allowed to choose their own careers post-retirement. It¡¯s within regulations."


    "I know it¡¯s allowed, but don¡¯t officers at this level usually receive a substantial pension?" Sheng Quan couldn¡¯t imagine a division-level retiree joining her company just for the money.


    Even if he was the restless type, most would just find some light work nearby. Why would someone his age travel all the way to Shanghai?


    She immediately grasped the underlying reason and looked at Jiang Lu with certainty. "You must have put in a good word for me."


    A rare hint of embarrassment flickered across Jiang Lu¡¯s stern face as he lowered his gaze slightly.


    "I ?????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????only told the truth."


    "The division commander became interested after hearing the company recruits retired and disabled veterans. He¡¯s always cared deeply about such matters." Jiang Lu paused, then added, "Or perhaps your salary and benefits were too generous, which made him suspicious."


    Sheng Quan understood instantly.


    Indeed, her plan to start a security company wasn¡¯t spur-of-the-moment. She¡¯d done her research.


    The quality of domestic security services had always been inconsistent. Given the industry¡¯s reputation, most employers hired bodyguards either for show or as enforcers. While bodyguards earned more than average jobs, the pay wasn¡¯t astronomically high¡ªespecially after the company¡¯s cut.


    Running a security firm involved significant upfront costs: leasing space, renovations, building training facilities, and ongoing programs. To turn a profit, the company couldn¡¯t pay bodyguards excessively.


    Naturally, their services were limited¡ªyou got what you paid for.


    As for the well-known security firms, their fees were exorbitant. If Sheng Quan were just ordinarily wealthy, she might have considered hiring from them. But she wasn¡¯t ordinary.


    With 006 still diligently making money for her, Sheng Quan¡ªnow fully embracing her role as a wealthy elite¡ªfelt her safety was better entrusted to her own people.


    She was simply being proactive. But from the division commander¡¯s perspective:


    A newly established security company, not even operational yet, offering such high salaries¡ªwhat were they up to?!


    Though the commander might have intended to infiltrate and investigate, Sheng Quan had nothing to hide. In fact, she welcomed such "undercover inspections" with open arms.


    Come one, come all¡ªshe¡¯d keep every one of them.


    Her company had just launched, and already a division-level retired officer was joining as a consultant. Even novels wouldn¡¯t dare write something this unrealistic.


    Munching on her candied hawthorn, Sheng Quan mused that between transmigrating into a book, her tycoon system, and now a high-ranking military consultant, her life was practically a Mary Sue fantasy. She might as well write a novel herself.


    Then again, her daily routine¡ªwandering around, binge-watching dramas, reading novels, studying, and suffering through CEO courses¡ªwas so mundane it would put readers to sleep.


    In any case, Sheng Quan wholeheartedly supported the commander¡¯s decision to join as a consultant.


    "If he trained you, his benefits need an upgrade. Full room and board, a private courtyard-style suite at the base, company-covered furnishings, annual health checkups, paid leave¡ªall negotiable."


    As expected, the commander¡¯s decision to come to Shanghai was 60% for Jiang Lu¡¯s sake and 40% to personally assess Sheng Quan.


    He disliked flying, so he took the train. The moment he stepped off, he spotted Jiang Lu at the arrival gate.


    The tall man stood there, no longer subconsciously hiding his presence. Though he still restrained his aura, the sharpness in his eyes had softened noticeably.


    Jiang Lu¡¯s striking features¡ªchiseled and handsome¡ªcombined with his height and solid build made his clothes fit tautly over well-defined muscles. When he wasn¡¯t deliberately concealing himself, passersby couldn¡¯t help but glance his way.


    The commander¡¯s heart warmed at the sight. Before he could react, Jiang Lu strode over with his long legs. Despite his seemingly unhurried pace, he covered ground faster than most.


    "You must be tired. The hotel is ready."


    Effortlessly taking the commander¡¯s luggage, Jiang Lu offered a rare, relaxed smile.


    "You brat! Leaving without a word and not even sending updates!"


    The commander punched Jiang Lu¡¯s chest playfully, grumbling even as his face betrayed his delight.


    "Good, you look well. I¡¯ve always told you¡ªyoung men shouldn¡¯t act so world-weary. You¡¯re barely thirty, with looks like yours. You should dress sharp and live boldly, just like now."


    Jiang Lu endured the commander¡¯s fussing over his old injuries¡ªquestions already asked over the phone but now needing visual confirmation.


    He stood silently, luggage in hand, letting the older man inspect him from all angles.


    Only after the commander was satisfied did they head to the car.


    Spotting the luxury vehicle, the commander raised an eyebrow. "Did Miss Sheng lend you this?"


    "Yes. She holds you in high regard. Since you¡¯re tired today, she¡¯ll host dinner tomorrow to discuss terms in person."


    Jiang Lu kept his eyes on the road as he drove. "Rest assured, Miss Sheng is very law-abiding."


    The commander chuckled. "You knew what I was thinking yet still talked me into coming. Seems Miss Sheng isn¡¯t just lawful¡ªshe¡¯s someone you trust deeply."


    Jiang Lu didn¡¯t deny it, though both knew another reason: the commander¡¯s wife had passed, his children lived afar, and his granddaughter¡ªraised by him¡ªhad just left for college.


    Such things needed no saying, just as the commander wouldn¡¯t ask how Jiang Lu had fared during his darkest days.


    At the hotel, Jiang Lu escorted the commander to his room, habitually checking the surroundings, testing the water and appliances before preparing to leave.


    "I¡¯ll pick you up tomorrow morning."


    The commander waved him off. "Go on, get out of here."


    At the door, Jiang Lu hesitated, turning back as if searching for words.


    Amused, the commander teased, "Relax, I¡¯ll play nice with our employer tomorrow. Won¡¯t scare her off."


    Jiang Lu replied earnestly, "Miss Sheng is formidable. She wouldn¡¯t be scared."


    The commander blinked. "Then what did you want to say?"


    A pause.


    Two seconds later, the tall man spoke softly:


    "Goodnight. Sweet dreams."


    The division commander was taken aback as Jiang Lu swiftly closed the door and vanished from sight.


    Were it not for the faint swaying of the "Do Not Disturb" sign on the door, he might have dismissed it as age-induced hearing loss.


    Jiang Lu! That kid actually wished him good night?


    And sweet dreams?!


    It was no different from a ferocious beast known for its terrifying roar suddenly meowing like a kitten.


    Thanks to Jiang Lu''s unexpected behavior, the division commander lay in bed half-convinced he had imagined it.


    Before sleep took him, his mind replayed their last meeting:


    The once proud and sharp-edged young man, backpack slung over his shoulder, turned to look back with eyes dulled by despair. With visible effort, he forced a pale smile¡ª


    "Once I''m better, I''ll come see you again."


    It sounded less like a promise and more like hollow comfort.


    The kind that might never be fulfilled.


    Yet now, that day had arrived.


    As the division commander settled into the plush bedding, his final thought was:


    Fine. For Jiang Lu''s sake, if the company''s legitimate, a few years of hard work wouldn''t hurt.


    Unaware that the division commander had already decided to give his all, Sheng Quan was reviewing the international promotion plan for "The Cultivator."


    Realistically, no series¡ªno matter how exceptional¡ªcould instantly dominate domestic and foreign markets upon release.


    To achieve the level of success Sheng Quan envisioned, extensive preparatory marketing was essential.


    While promotion typically came later, ambitious productions often drafted strategies years in advance, laying groundwork early. Relying solely on "luck" or "coincidence" was no way for investors to turn profits.


    Marking up the documents, Sheng Quan could tangibly measure her progress from all those business courses.


    Not that she planned to stop¡ªif workaholic Gu Zhao still found time for classes, she certainly wouldn''t slack off. The mere thought of her future commercial empire reignited her drive.


    The sound of footsteps interrupted her focus. She glanced up to see Jiang Lu returning from his errand.


    "Welcome back, Jiang Lu. Smooth trip? How''s the old man''s spirits?"


    "Very smooth," Jiang Lu replied. "He''s looking forward to meeting you."


    "Excellent."


    The prospect of a retired division commander joining as consultant thrilled Sheng Quan.


    This wasn''t just about prestige¡ªJiang Lu''s recommendation guaranteed exceptional mentorship.


    Moreover, the division commander''s involvement signaled smooth sailing for her veteran recruitment initiative, possibly even garnering military support.


    Her study fatigue evaporated as she cheerfully dismissed Jiang Lu:


    "Get some rest. Good night, sweet dreams."


    Jiang Lu''s stern features softened slightly as he responded with habitual professionalism:


    "Good night. Pleasant dreams."


    Their first meeting with the division commander went suspiciously well¡ªalmost too well.


    Sheng Quan had expected rigorous scrutiny, but after reviewing the contracts, operational plans, and especially the disabled veterans'' employment details, the old officer asked no further questions.


    She suspected he''d already vetted her through other channels.


    Not that it mattered.


    Thanks to 006''s groundwork, Sheng Quan''s backstory as an heir to generational wealth (with 006 as the first-gen) was airtight. Her profile as a diaspora returnee raised no flags, and the carefully selected offshore jurisdiction housing her "inheritance" ensured every financial transaction appeared legitimate¡ªeven under governmental audit.


    Her composure visibly impressed the division commander, Qin Guofu, who warmed up considerably over lunch.


    Most of his conversation revolved around Jiang Lu''s military exploits¡ªomitting classified details, but leaving no aspect of the man''s excellence unpraised.


    "With his service record and honors, he could''ve walked into any public security leadership role post-discharge. But the stubborn kid chose to leave."


    "Don''t let his current demeanor fool you, Miss Sheng. Jiang Lu was the elite among elites. Even now, I wouldn''t stand a chance against him."


    Sheng Quan recognized the paternal concern¡ªhe feared she might underestimate Jiang Lu.


    Smiling, she refilled Qin''s teacup. "You misunderstand. Jiang Lu radiates capability. Though you''ve solved my mystery¡ªI always suspected he was extraordinary."


    Qin brightened. "Exactly! True talent never fades. It becomes part of you."


    "No wonder he was my first choice for consultant," Sheng Quan agreed.


    Their mutual praise left Jiang Lu rigid with discomfort, his ears burning as he silently drained cup after cup.


    Post-lunch, they toured the nearly completed corporate office and training facility.


    The sleek, upscale office served client-facing operations, while the sprawling remote training compound¡ªleased rather than owned¡ªoptimized privacy for intensive drills.


    A newly hired staff member enthusiastically outlined their curriculum:


    "Our program includes combat techniques, risk assessment, defensive strategies, foreign language electives, security protocols, legal applications..."


    Qin Guofu nodded approvingly at each module.


    Between the pension scheme and multifaceted skill development, even those aging out of fieldwork could transition seamlessly into other careers.


    "Solid structure. Just specify your recruitment criteria¡ªmy network can deliver however many qualified veterans you need."


    The rigorous training requirements didn''t faze him. If anything, they validated the venture''s seriousness.


    No legitimate enterprise handed out money for nothing¡ªand he wouldn''t have endorsed such a scheme anyway.


    If the joy at the dinner table had merely been from pleasant conversation, then Qin Guofu was now genuinely happy from the bottom of his heart.


    The reemployment of veterans was indeed a pressing issue. These were good men and women, especially someone like Jiang Lu, whose physical prowess was exceptional. In the military, they only needed to focus on honing their strength, but in the safe confines of civilian life, such skills often went unused.


    As a seasoned officer of the older generation, once Qin Guofu realized that Sheng Quan was truly serious about building this company, his admiration for the young woman soared instantly.


    Bodyguard work could be done by anyone with a strong physique, yet Sheng Quan specifically sought out veterans¡ªeven those with disabilities. Regardless of anything else, her sincerity touched Qin Guofu deeply.


    His way of expressing gratitude was straightforward: "I¡¯ll make sure to praise you young folks to my old comrades."


    Qin Guofu could already imagine how overjoyed his friends still serving in the military would be when he shared this news with them.


    Even Sheng Quan, who had weathered her fair share of storms, couldn¡¯t help but feel a thrill of excitement.


    The old friends of a division commander¡ªwhat kind of people would they be?


    So, was this really not some kind of Mary Sue novel?


    ¡ªAnd then, in a very Mary Sue fashion, Sheng Quan spent the next few months in relative calm and uneventfulness.


    Until The Cultivator hit the theaters.

 Chapter 43

    Over the past few months, Sheng Quan certainly hadn¡¯t been idle. Since her primary focus was on "The Cultivator," most of the people she chose to invest in were connected to the film crew.


    Thanks to her careful management, the life-value feedback was maintained at just the right level. She had even resisted the urge to draw prizes¡ªyes, she now had the luxury to skip it¡ªall to test whether the results could be stacked.


    Fortunately, her patience paid off. With the collective effort of the entire team, "The Cultivator" made it in time for the Lunar New Year release.


    This was when the influence of the investors truly shone. Everyone scrambled to pull strings, each showcasing their unique abilities. Star Glow Entertainment was among them, quickly securing a release date.


    General Manager Fang, with his signature thin mustache, had the most extensive connections in the theater industry. This time, he stole the spotlight among the investors.


    Among the backers, Sheng Quan¡ªwho had already poured in 300 million (her funding over these months)¡ªwas undoubtedly the top dog. So when General Manager Fang got the chance to flex his influence, he was downright smug.


    "This year¡¯s Lunar New Year lineup is fiercely competitive. Take films like ''The Iron-Willed Boss,'' ''My Happy Mom,'' and ''Five Treasures Happy Family 2''¡ªthey¡¯ve got adventure, comedy, warmth, all the hot genres covered. And yet, we still managed to secure such a high opening-day screening rate, almost on par with ''The Iron-Willed Boss.''"


    Having pulled off a major coup, everyone was happy to shower him with praise. Even Sheng Quan raised a glass of cola in his honor.


    As for why she wasn¡¯t drinking at what was clearly a premature celebration dinner, not even the most lightheaded General Manager Fang dared to ask.


    When someone¡¯s thrown 300 million into the pot, who cares if they skip the alcohol? It¡¯s not like she forced everyone else to drink cola with her.


    He was too busy dreaming big: "Once ''The Cultivator'' hits the screens, we¡¯re 99% guaranteed success. Hahaha! Folks, next up, we might even be aiming for awards!"


    This wasn¡¯t just wishful thinking. After the final cut of "The Cultivator" was completed, they held private screenings and invited reputable critics for feedback. The result? A staggering 80% approval rating.


    Keep in mind, their test audience spanned all age groups¡ªmen and women, young and old, even foreigners. An 80% positive response was exceptionally high.


    The review from Mr. Wang¡¯s critic friend further cemented their confidence:


    "This film exceeds expectations in every aspect¡ªscriptwriting, editing, sound design, visual effects, emotional impact. The performances are so convincing they blur the line between fiction and reality. Even audiences who¡¯ve never touched the xianxia genre will likely be moved. On a scale of ten, I¡¯d give it a 9.9."


    This unanimous praise was the driving force behind the investors¡¯ all-out efforts to promote "The Cultivator."


    Life rarely delivers true "surprises." If most people say a movie is bad now, it might stage a comeback decades later due to shifting tastes. But if most agree it¡¯s great and destined to be a hit, then it will explode¡ªno doubt about it. The only question is whether it¡¯ll be "blockbuster" or "mega-blockbuster."


    And the investors¡¯ goal? To push "The Cultivator" into "mega-blockbuster" territory.


    The marketing campaign was firing on all cylinders.


    Recently, xianxia content had enjoyed a resurgence, and now, it was time for that trend to pay dividends. Clips of "The Cultivator" went viral, amplified by strategic promotion, creating palpable hype. Fans of the genre were thrilled¡ªthough they didn¡¯t realize their newfound love for xianxia had been carefully cultivated from the start.


    Still, not everyone was fooled.


    Before the film¡¯s release, one netizen posted their ticket with excitement, calling it the movie that sparked the xianxia revival. But others spotted the bigger picture.


    @CaramelPopcornFan theorized:


    "My favorite xianxia novel? The author said it was commissioned work. My favorite xianxia comic? Also a sponsored project. And the timing lines up perfectly with when ''The Cultivator¡¯s'' filming location was leaked.


    Sure, you could argue that xianxia livestream was mind-blowing, but how likely is it that so many sponsors just happened to appear? This was clearly groundwork for the movie¡¯s release.


    Think about it¡ªxianxia was practically dead before. Why would it suddenly bloom everywhere just as a xianxia film is about to drop?


    This was one elaborate chess game."


    The theory made sense. Some dismissed it as overthinking, while others shrugged it off.


    @CitrusMeow summed it up: "If high-quality xianxia stories are the result of corporate maneuvering, then all I can say is¡ªkeep it coming! Push harder!"


    Here¡¯s the translated content tailored for English-speaking readers:


    The Maple Moon Here: "As long as the movie is good, I don¡¯t care how they promote it. Just make it good!"


    Screaming Weirdo: "Honestly, I heard Sheng Quan is the biggest investor in this film. Given her personality, she might actually go around commissioning all sorts of xianxia works just because she loves the genre."


    Non-European Today Wants Luck: "Agreed with the above. My girl Sheng Quan would totally do something like this. Didn¡¯t she just spend a fortune two months ago buying a song from some unknown artist on Leting?"


    The Manor Master¡¯s Apprentice: "Qian Qianling¡¯s song was totally worth it, but for an obscure online singer, Sheng Quan paying such a high price was seriously generous."


    Usually Crescent Moon: "Sheng Quan didn¡¯t lose out, though. Qian Qianling now has millions of fans and is signed under Starlight Entertainment¡ªit¡¯s a fair exchange. But it¡¯s so surreal how everyone Sheng Quan takes a liking to suddenly blows up."


    Can¡¯t Crack Nuts: "Or maybe the people who catch Sheng Quan¡¯s eye are just talented to begin with?"


    Flying Eel: "Exactly! Did you guys notice the Taoist monk in the clips from The Cultivator? We¡¯ve seen plenty of martial monk tropes, but this is the first time we¡¯re getting a martial Taoist. When he tore his robes, my jaw dropped! The sheer impact, the explosive energy¡ªyou could feel it through the screen. And guess what? He¡¯s also signed under Starlight."


    Daily Name Change: "Haven¡¯t you heard the saying? Starlight doesn¡¯t sign ugly people. Look at all their artists so far¡ªeven An Baixing can be called a sunny little hottie."


    This is also why netizens reacted so indifferently¡ªeven enthusiastically¡ªto the OP¡¯s comment about "this being a grand scheme where we¡¯re all just pawns," with responses like, "If this is a grand scheme, please scheme harder."


    The entertainment industry is never short of handsome men and beautiful women, but there¡¯s always those with zero talent or looks who hog resources just because they have connections.


    So when Starlight Entertainment appeared out of nowhere, with a chairwoman who¡¯s obviously a looks-obsessed connoisseur and an impeccable eye for talent¡ªonly signing people who are both stunning and skilled¡ªhow could audiences not cheer?


    Hotpot Loves BBQ: "This is how it should be! The entertainment industry is about entertainment¡ªabout good looks and bringing joy to the audience. Chairwoman Sheng, you¡¯re killing it!"


    Shang Bo: "Just from the clips, you can tell how much care The Cultivator¡¯s team put into this. It¡¯s rare to see such a sincere domestic film¡ªI¡¯m supporting it no matter what."


    Glazed Candy: "Am I the only one who noticed every single person in the clips is drop-dead gorgeous? This aesthetics-obsessed fan has already bought tickets!"


    Cute Foodie: "My boy Yan Hui was discovered by Sheng Quan. Her taste is unmatched!"


    Salt and Pepper Seal: "I don¡¯t care if the xianxia hype is marketing. If it¡¯s good enough to entertain me, I¡¯ll promote it myself."


    Plenty of viewers share this mindset, but most don¡¯t overthink it. Some just love xianxia, some stumbled upon the clips and got curious, and others are here for their favorite stars.


    Yu Miao is here for her favorite actress¡ªShen Lv.


    To fans, Shen Lv¡¯s career has been unfairly tough. Despite her stellar acting, she keeps landing weird roles. The one drama that finally got her noticed was overshadowed by unfair comparisons.


    As a longtime fan, Yu Miao has watched Shen Lv¡¯s journey¡ªfrom her goofy, occasionally cringey Weibo posts to the robotic, PR-approved updates.


    But after joining The Cultivator¡¯s cast, Shen Lv¡¯s Weibo slowly came back to life.


    Sometimes it¡¯s a selfie with a bag of roast duck, posing with her co-stars: "Got praised by the director today, haha! She said it was obvious I¡¯d been practicing hard, so she rewarded me with her roast duck."


    Other times, it¡¯s a shot of grass stubbornly growing through set tiles: "The grass vs. props team saga continues. They keep tearing it out; it keeps growing back. Chairwoman Sheng said they¡¯ll let it grow freely after filming wraps."


    Or a group gym selfie: "This cast is insane¡ªabs everywhere. Gotta work harder!"


    Occasionally, she¡¯d sneak a shot of Sheng Quan from afar: "Chairwoman Sheng watching us film through binoculars. She noticed me taking pics and gave me a peace sign."


    Fans have happily dissected Shen Lv¡¯s transformation, concluding one thing: The Cultivator¡¯s set runs on pure meritocracy.


    A big-name actor was cut from the project after two weeks¡ªthe crew was willing to reshoot all his scenes and pay penalties just to remove him.


    The actor later hinted on Weibo that he "wasn¡¯t kicked out" but "left because the project wasn¡¯t up to par."


    Then, some behind-the-scenes footage from the film set was "leaked" online, mostly showing the actor failing to deliver his lines and blaming his co-stars, along with various diva-like antics.


    Yu Miao thought this actor was truly foolish. What kind of production was The Cultivators? The investors involved were practically all big shots, with a budget reaching hundreds of millions.


    This was a production that could literally build an entire "immortal palace" from scratch just to achieve the best filming results. With so much money poured into it, there were plenty of actors to choose from¡ªwhy would they tolerate his unprofessional behavior like some low-budget crew?


    Hadn¡¯t he noticed that other equally famous, even more renowned actors were all diligently following the filming schedule without complaint?


    Still, his stupidity had its perks¡ªat least now that he was gone, their beloved Shen Lv wouldn¡¯t have to worry about being bullied. Especially when Yu Miao saw how the crew celebrated Shen Lv¡¯s birthday with a cake, her heart swelled with so much joy she could barely contain it.


    Shen ?????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????Lv¡¯s growth had subtly turned fans like her into fans of the production itself¡ªthe director, the crew, even Sheng Quan.


    So, the moment tickets went on sale, Yu Miao bought hers, determined to show her support through action.


    Of course, when leaving a review, she¡¯d make sure to highlight that she was Shen Lv¡¯s fan, just to let everyone know their "Lv Lv" could carry a film¡¯s box office too!


    With this mindset of "I¡¯m going to savor every moment of my Lv Lv¡¯s performance," Yu Miao entered the theater. A fantasy film like this demanded top-tier visuals, so IMAX was a must.


    At the start, she was still wondering when Shen Lv would appear. But as the screen brightened, revealing breathtaking landscapes, she nodded to herself¡ªthis already looked more stunning than the usual CGI-heavy films.


    The camera panned downstream to a simple village woman washing clothes by the river, only to be suddenly yanked underwater by a green-scaled hand with long, claw-like nails¡ª


    The shot composition was so masterful that Yu Miao froze with her popcorn halfway to her mouth, completely drawn in.


    She thought, This woman¡¯s definitely getting eaten by a monster. Classic demon-slaying setup.


    But the next moment, the woman and a green-haired girl emerged from the water together. The woman affectionately ruffled the girl¡¯s head, chiding, "Miss Shui, must you be so mischievous? I¡¯m busy¡ªno time to play."


    The girl, unmistakably a fish spirit with her ethereal beauty, blinked and clumsily offered a plump fish. "For... you to eat," she stammered.


    At this point, Yu Miao was both intrigued and surprised. But what really stunned her was when the woman returned to the village, where little spirits roamed freely¡ª


    A willow spirit used its branches to haul goods, a cat spirit napped lazily in the sun, even a rock spirit inched along the road. The villagers were so accustomed to them that humans and spirits gossiped side by side.


    And it all felt real.


    Despite their human forms, the spirits¡¯ true natures were unmistakable¡ªthe cat spirit¡¯s every movement reminded Yu Miao of her own pet.


    The low-roofed houses, passing villagers, distant vendor calls, and rising smoke from hearths¡ªeverything felt tangibly alive.


    Even as a layperson, she could tell: this film was packed with detail.


    Soon, she stopped analyzing and simply let herself be pulled into The Cultivators¡¯ world.


    ¡ª"A cultivator follows their heart. If yours beats as one, then you are one."


    ¡ª"I said, could you shut these eyes... and the other few hundred too?"


    ¡ª"Of course an immortal palace must be beautiful¡ªhow else would it live up to mortal dreams?"


    ¡ª"Infinite heavens! Why can¡¯t mortals too shield their own kind?"


    ¡ª"What¡¯re you staring at? Never seen an elder vomit blood? Want me to slap you all into spitting up too?!"


    ¡ª"Your path is detachment. Ours is compassion for all."


    ¡ª"Sweet heavens! Even a thousand-year turtle¡¯s shell couldn¡¯t take that hit¡ªgood thing I¡¯ve got a ten-thousand-year backup¡ªWAIT, no! Old Tortoise went home to visit! Daoist, RUN!"


    ¡ª"Do all cultivators only love the people for their faith? I refuse to believe it. So I¡¯ll prove it."


    ¡ª"I really don¡¯t want to part with my money... Senior Sister, if we die saving the world, they¡¯ll gild our statues, right? Solid gold, please."


    ¡ª"Is trading a lifetime of cultivation for their lives worth it? Fool¡ªif you stood below, would you want to live?"


    ¡ª"You would? Then it¡¯s worth it!"


    By the film¡¯s end, Yu Miao had laughed until her sides hurt, wiped away tears, then laughed again. The vast lore, dazzling worldbuilding, and cultivators bursting with personality¡ª


    She witnessed their joys and sorrows, watched them walk paths of their own choosing.


    When the power of faith finally reappeared, and the prayers of ordinary people converged into a massive force that surged into the bodies of the cultivators holding up the celestial pillar, Yu Miao was utterly overwhelmed.


    The passionate music resonated deep in her heart.


    As the movie ended and the lights came on, only one thought filled Yu Miao''s mind.


    She had to watch it again!!!


    She quickly pulled out her phone to buy tickets for the next showing, only to find it was already sold out. Fortunately, being as clever as she was, she checked other theaters and managed to snag a seat that wasn¡¯t too bad.


    On her way to the theater, Yu Miao couldn¡¯t contain her excitement. Sitting on the subway, she opened a review app and feverishly typed out long paragraphs of praise.


    In summary: "So good!! So good!! I never watch xianxia films, but now I know how amazing they can be!!"


    After passionately pouring out a thousand words, Yu Miao finally exited the page, satisfied.


    But of course, she wasn¡¯t going to stop at just leaving a review.


    Yu Miao swiftly opened every app she had. First, she posted on her social media: "¡®The Cultivators¡¯ is incredible! Highly recommended!"


    Then she messaged friends and family: "I just watched ¡®The Cultivators¡¯¡ªOMG, it¡¯s so good! A total feast for the eyes in every way! I¡¯m on my way to watch it again. You have to see it! If you want to rewatch it later, I¡¯ll gladly join you for a third round!"


    Finally, she went into every group chat she was in, promoting the movie one by one.


    When she reached her fan group, the members enthusiastically promised to watch it too.


    "Really?! That¡¯s awesome! I only managed to get tickets for tomorrow, but I¡¯ll definitely go! How was it? Was our Lv Lv absolutely stunning in it?!"


    Yu Miao¡¯s excitement briefly cooled: "..."


    Oh no!!!!


    Lv Lv!!


    She¡¯d been so engrossed in the movie that she hadn¡¯t even noticed Lv Lv¡¯s beauty!


    Her brain froze for a second before she quickly rationalized it and replied:


    "Lv Lv¡¯s acting was phenomenal!! She completely became her character¡ªI didn¡¯t feel any disconnect at all. The whole time, I saw her as the role itself! You¡¯ll understand when you watch it. It¡¯s seriously amazing!!"


    After sending that, Yu Miao¡¯s excitement reignited.


    Right!


    If "The Cultivators" was this good, it was bound to blow up¡ªand Lv Lv would rise with it!


    Her performance was so outstanding that people would surely search for her name and become fans.


    Yu Miao shared this optimistic outlook in the group, and those who hadn¡¯t seen the movie yet began envisioning a bright future.


    Someone else chimed in: "Well, it¡¯s not guaranteed, so we need to watch it ourselves and hype Lv Lv up. Ahhh, I can¡¯t wait! I¡¯m already seeing tons of praise for the movie online!"


    Yu Miao reassured them: "Don¡¯t worry! It¡¯ll happen! Once people watch it, they¡¯ll immediately look up Lv Lv and follow her!"


    The group member asked: "How can you be so sure?"


    In real life, Yu Miao glanced at her phone, where her Weibo was already filled with new follows: Cough.


    She¡¯d even given Sheng Quan a special follow because many of the people she followed were artists under Sheng Quan¡¯s company.


    After a brief moment of guilt, Yu Miao convinced herself again¡ªthis wasn¡¯t being fickle.


    It was being open-hearted!!

 Chapter 44

    The popularity of "The Cultivator" exceeded everyone''s expectations.


    Overnight, it seemed like everyone¡ªboth in real life and online¡ªhad heard of this xianxia film.


    "It¡¯s so good! The visuals are absolutely stunning!"


    "The screenwriter¡¯s imagination is insane¡ªhow did they blend xianxia with reality so seamlessly? I¡¯ve been questioning my life ever since watching it."


    "Honestly, it makes me wonder if we really did have a xianxia era in the past, and it just faded away due to dwindling spiritual energy."


    "Ahhh, I can¡¯t move on! After watching, I kept chanting ¡®I¡¯m willing to believe in you¡¯ to my dog at home."


    "Were the immortal palaces really filmed on location? Oh my god, are those structures even possible in real life? I heard the sets haven¡¯t been dismantled yet¡ªI want to see them! I¡¯d even pay for tickets!!!"


    "How did they make every character so fleshed out? Even the villains feel so believable. Wuwuwu, I never knew xianxia could be this amazing¡ªI¡¯m obsessed!"


    "I¡¯m out of words to praise it, so I¡¯ll just keep repeating: it¡¯s so good, so good, SO GOOD!!"


    Within just three days of its release, fanworks for "The Cultivator" were already flooding the internet.


    In the group chats Sheng Quan was part of, memes featuring the film¡¯s characters spread like wildfire.


    "Who can resist little money money.jpg" (Master Kuke ecstatically diving into a pile of gold and jewels)


    "Greedy inhale.jpg" (the antagonist Hu Yang absorbing spiritual energy)


    "The joy of work is beyond your imagination.jpg" (the Hua Miao Sect Leader miserably hauling a brick of spirit stones taller than himself)


    Not only did Sheng Quan happily join in, but she also contributed two memes of her own, smugly watching as her group friends stole them.


    She¡¯d known during the internal screenings that these scenes would make perfect memes¡ªhahahaha.


    Beyond fan art and memes, the shipping frenzy among netizens had already reached absurd heights in just three days.


    It felt like any two characters could be paired together¡ªfellow disciples, sworn rivals, fleeting encounters, even characters who never interacted in the film somehow became irresistible ships.


    Even Lord Hua Mei, who only appeared in dialogue as a long-fallen figure from antiquity, became the undisputed star of the fanfiction wave.


    Sheng Quan never underestimated the power of fandom. A surge of fanworks didn¡¯t just prove that the story inspired love and creativity¡ªit proved that its characters had truly "come alive" in the audience¡¯s eyes.


    This organic, snowballing expansion of "The Cultivator¡¯s" fanbase meant the film effortlessly claimed victory with minimal promotional effort.


    From the second day onward, its daily box office earnings topped the charts.


    General Manager Fang and the others were over the moon. Truthfully, while they¡¯d expected "The Cultivator" to perform well, no one had been entirely free of worry.


    One disadvantage of "The Cultivator" was its staggering budget.


    As the primary investor, Sheng Quan had poured in 310 million yuan, while others collectively added over 90 million.


    That totaled 400 million yuan¡ªreal, hard cash.


    The kicker? While the entertainment industry often splurges on big-name actors, "The Cultivator" had mostly cast unknowns, meaning nearly every cent went into production.


    When audiences marveled at the "realistic xianxia world," they weren¡¯t wrong¡ªthe film had gone all out to create it.


    The other investors winced at every financial report, often wondering if they¡¯d boarded a sinking ship.


    Big-budget films weren¡¯t unheard of, but most poured money into A-list stars to guarantee fan turnout. "The Cultivator," however, bet everything on production quality¡ªa high-wire act that left the investors sweating.


    Still, with no turning back, they gritted their teeth and pressed on.


    Occasionally, they¡¯d half-jokingly prod Sheng Quan:


    "On-location filming is such a money pit¡ªjust the flights cost a fortune. Green screens and post-production VFX would¡¯ve been fine; audiences wouldn¡¯t notice."


    "The props didn¡¯t need to be this detailed. A little filter magic, and they¡¯d look just as real."


    "Did we really need custom costumes for every extra? Sure, the leads, but background characters? Hundreds of outfits just to be blurry pixels on screen?"


    Sheng Quan, of course, tuned them out.


    To the other investors, she was the epitome of a spoiled rich kid¡ªburning cash without a care.


    Invest 100 million? Break-even at 400 million.


    Invest 400 million? You¡¯d need 1.2 billion just to stay afloat.


    1.2 billion! As if that grew on trees!


    Even if the film succeeded, the pressure was immense¡ªhence their desperate efforts to maximize returns.


    No one wanted to risk a massive investment for meager profits.


    Then, "The Cultivator" opened with a jaw-dropping 170 million yuan on day one... and kept climbing.


    By ?????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????day three, it had crossed 900 million.


    The other investors: "..."


    At subsequent dinners, whenever Sheng Quan ordered a soft drink, three others would chime in, "I¡¯ll also have a drink¡ªgotta stay healthy."


    It was clear: the film¡¯s earnings were ballooning with its hype.


    Even the "wasteful expenses" they¡¯d criticized were now being spotlighted by euphoric fans.


    "The costumes are exquisite¡ªeven the gatekeeper disciples¡¯ robes are gorgeous."


    "I can¡¯t pinpoint why, but every frame is perfect. Three viewings in, and I¡¯m ready for a fourth."


    "The dedication is unreal. Those mountains, trees, and grass were all real? It¡¯s so immersive! I¡¯ve already forced everyone I know to watch it¡ªgo Cultivator!!!"


    The lesson? Audiences have taste.


    Every ounce of effort poured into "The Cultivator" was repaid tenfold by its fans.


    Just three days in, and the internet was already flooded with demands to throw money at the franchise.


    [Release merch! Take my money!]


    [When will the immortal palaces open to the public? My wallet is ready.]


    [Those mythical beasts were SO COOL¡ªespecially the Qiongqi! A life-sized figure would be an instant buy!!!]


    The other investors: "..."


    Sheng Quan had pushed for pre-ordered merchandise against all advice.


    When some items were priced too high, none of them had followed suit.


    Now, at the peak of its popularity when the audience is most passionate, Sheng Quan has a vast collection of exquisite merchandise.


    Calculating the cost price versus the selling price of these items...


    General Manager Fang was the first to speak: "Haha, the younger generation."


    "Only the young truly understand the young. If we were a few years younger, we¡¯d definitely be customizing these too."


    The others chimed in: "Absolutely!"


    "Honestly, I wanted to invest alongside Chairman Sheng back then, but the funds just weren¡¯t ready."


    Amid the laughter and chatter, it was as if nothing had ever happened.


    Then, at the next gathering,


    everyone suggested meeting at a teahouse. Chairman Sheng dislikes drinking parties? No problem¡ªthey¡¯d skip the alcohol. After all, they weren¡¯t particularly fond of drinking either.


    What? Trying to please Chairman Sheng?


    Nonsense!


    It¡¯s just about healthy living!

 Chapter 45

    "Merchandise? Ready stock? And this much inventory?"


    When Xie Wanzhao saw this news, she was already certain that Sheng Quan would lose everything.


    As a middle-aged woman approaching fifty, she had climbed her way up from being a penniless young girl to her current wealth and status, naturally accumulating a wealth of experience along the way.


    She felt a secret thrill but didn¡¯t let it show, maintaining the demeanor of a seasoned professional as she casually remarked:


    "Selling merchandise for a newly released movie domestically... It seems this young President Sheng is too accustomed to the overseas market. When entering the film industry, she didn¡¯t bother to properly study the Chinese market."


    She had every right to gloat¡ªafter all, Xie Wanzhao was an investor in Iron Boss.


    Iron Boss was the most anticipated movie of this year¡¯s Spring Festival season¡ªif The Cultivator hadn¡¯t appeared.


    On the first day, when The Cultivator¡¯s box office suddenly surged and slightly overtook Iron Boss, Xie Wanzhao immediately called for a meeting and ramped up promotional efforts for her own film.


    The marketing push clearly worked¡ªon the second day, their box office saw a noticeable uptick, the classic upward climb.


    At the time, Xie Wanzhao breathed a small sigh of relief. Even if The Cultivator also climbed steadily, there was still hope for a reversal.


    The best outcome would be if The Cultivator didn¡¯t climb at all.


    And The Cultivator didn¡¯t climb.


    It shot up like a skyrocket.


    Xie Wanzhao: "..."


    Don¡¯t ask. Just regret.


    Iron Boss had been completed long ago, held back specifically for the Spring Festival season. Internal test screenings and professional critics¡¯ reviews had filled them with confidence.


    As for the other films slated for the same season, Xie Wanzhao and her team had conducted thorough analyses, concluding that none¡ªwhether in terms of production team or other aspects¡ªcould hold a candle to theirs.


    The final verdict: This Spring Festival, they would leave all competitors in the dust.


    And now, "left in the dust" had indeed happened.


    Unfortunately, it was Iron Boss eating dust.


    Xie Wanzhao hadn¡¯t completely overlooked The Cultivator when assessing competitors. After all, the earlier "Immortal Palace Livestream" had been wildly popular, and the subsequent explosion of xianxia-themed novels, comics, and music was clearly laying the groundwork for the movie.


    But after careful calculations and analysis, The Cultivator wasn¡¯t seen as a threat.


    So what if the investment was huge? If a veteran film producer (like herself) had poured that much money into it, then sure, the movie would likely be a hit.


    But with Sheng Quan...


    Young. Inexperienced. A rich second-generation. The perfect recipe for a flop.


    Yes, her investment in The Road of Life had been a success, but TV dramas and movies were entirely different. The Road of Life could at least be considered a comedy. What was The Cultivator?


    A dead-on-arrival xianxia flick.


    No matter how many xianxia novels, comics, or songs Sheng Quan¡¯s team churned out, none of that had anything to do with actual cinema. Movies had to make people willing to pay to watch them.


    The Cultivator had unveiled the Immortal Palace early and saturated the market with xianxia content to hype the genre. Others might call it genius marketing, but Xie Wanzhao and her team saw it as sheer suicide.


    After all, not every cent from box office earnings went to the investors.


    Once ticket sales were tallied, deductions had to be made for the Film Development Fund, special business taxes, and agency fees before arriving at the net box office.


    And even then, the net wasn¡¯t simply divvied up among investors like a happy potluck.


    First, theaters took about 50%. Then, cinema chains claimed 7%.


    The distributors got their cut too.


    In the end, the production side¡ªrepresented by the investors¡ªwas left with only around 40%.


    The bigger the film¡¯s budget, the harder it was to break even. Sheng Quan had splurged on building ten Immortal Palaces, aggressively promoted the xianxia genre, and invested over 300 million in production alone.


    To Xie Wanzhao, this wasn¡¯t just playing with fire¡ªit was self-immolation.


    So even as The Cultivator¡¯s hype grew, she never considered stepping aside. Instead, she clung to her "victor¡¯s" mindset, ready to watch from the sidelines.


    Back then, Xie Wanzhao had even imagined how she¡¯d console the young President Sheng and be the first to invite her to collaborate on future projects.


    Mock her?


    Please.


    Who in their right mind would alienate a deep-pocketed patron?


    If anything, Xie Wanzhao had felt a certain fondness for Sheng Quan¡ªlike a benevolent elder watching a brash, overconfident junior.


    She could tell Sheng Quan genuinely wanted to make great films.


    While chuckling at the girl¡¯s naivety, Xie Wanzhao couldn¡¯t help but feel a twinge of nostalgia. She too had once been young and idealistic, burning with passion to create something meaningful.


    But people had to grow up. The market was what it was. In China, making quality films wasn¡¯t just swimming against the tide¡ªit was practically a thankless task.


    Take Iron Boss¡ªa star-studded action-comedy with most of the budget spent on A-list actors. The quality was passable, but it was guaranteed to turn a solid profit with minimal risk.


    Meanwhile, The Cultivator had risk dialed up to the max.


    And yet, against all odds, this seemingly doomed film had skyrocketed at the box office.


    Xie Wanzhao was a businesswoman first. The moment she was overtaken, whatever goodwill she¡¯d felt toward Sheng Quan evaporated.


    After all, it was easy to be gracious to those you¡¯d defeated. But when the tables turned? Not so much.


    After a week of scrambling, Xie Wanzhao had to admit: There was no coming back.


    The Cultivator was unstoppable.


    A year and a half of the company¡¯s time, effort, and money¡ªcountless connections called in to secure top talent¡ªwhat should¡¯ve been a surefire victory had turned into a box office disappointment.


    Xie Wanzhao took it in stride. The film industry was volatile, and this loss wouldn¡¯t crush her.


    But that didn¡¯t stop her from reveling in Sheng Quan¡¯s merchandise misstep.


    Being bested by a junior was bad enough. Now that junior had made such an amateur mistake? How could she not savor the schadenfreude?


    Xie Wanzhao went to bed with this petty delight simmering inside her. The next morning, she leisurely finished breakfast, cleared a couple of postponed tasks, and took a stroll.


    Only after returning home did she finally open The Cultivator¡¯s official merchandise site, eager to witness the young upstart¡¯s failure.


    Honestly, Sheng Quan¡¯s inexperience showed. Movie merchandise should always start with pre-orders.


    Who in their right mind would stockpile this much ready-to-ship inventory right out the gate?


    Unsold merchandise was pure deadweight. A quick glance the day before had revealed staggering quantities.


    Sipping ?????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????warm water, Xie Wanzhao lazily shifted her gaze to the screen.


    After one night, surely only a fraction had been sold...


    SOLD OUT?!?!


    She nearly choked on her drink.


    Xie Wanzhao set down her water glass without drinking and scrolled down the page with her mouse.


    Sold out, sold out, still sold out.


    The screen was filled with merchandise listings, nearly all marked as sold out.


    She could understand the cheaper plushies priced at just a few dozen yuan selling out, but as she kept scrolling, even the most expensive life-sized figurines¡ªpriced at a staggering 23,000 yuan¡ªwere gone.


    Three years ago, when her company invested in a movie and released collaborative merchandise, even a 100-yuan thermos barely sold.


    Temporarily setting aside her shock, Xie Wanzhao opened Weibo, ignoring the trending hashtag ¡¾"Cultivator" Merchandise Sells Out Overnight¡¿, and directly searched for ¡¾"Cultivator" Merchandise¡¿, then clicked on real-time updates.


    The hype was undeniable, with new posts refreshing every second.


    JustCallMeXiaoWang: ¡¾AHHHHHHHH YOU GUYS ARE TOO FAST! I COULDN¡¯T GET ANYTHING!¡¿


    CatEatingFish: ¡¾WHO WAS IT?! WHO BOUGHT THE LAST LIFE-SIZED MASTER KUKE?! I SAW IT SAID "1 LEFT," BUT THE SECOND I CLICKED "BUY," IT WAS GONE! I¡¯M SO MAD!!!!¡¿


    SleepEarlyToday: ¡¾Looking to buy the "Emerald Crown"¡ªwilling to pay 1.5x the price¡¿


    WhenWillMyFaveAuthorUpdate: ¡¾I GOT IT I GOT IT HAHAHAHAHAHA!! YOU WEAKLINGS CAN¡¯T EVEN OUTBUY ME¡¿


    SuperNoticeable: ¡¾So upset. Last night, I spent forever on the official site trying to decide between Yuan Ming or Taoist Xingyun¡¯s cup¡ªsince I¡¯m a student, I could only afford one. I thought I¡¯d sleep on it and decide in the morning, but when I woke up, EVERYTHING WAS GONE!!


    I wanna cry. Please, if anyone bought one and doesn¡¯t want it anymore, sell it to me!¡¿


    MuYuchen: ¡¾By the time I got there, most stuff was already gone. I only managed to snag two pillows, but when I found out my friend didn¡¯t even get those, my disappointment vanished instantly lol¡¿


    New posts kept flooding in¡ªsome bragging about their purchases, others lamenting their failure to grab anything.


    Xie Wanzhao worked in this industry, and just from the wildly varying tones of these posts¡ªranging from frenzied excitement to outright rage¡ªshe could tell these weren¡¯t paid shills.


    Skeptical, she clicked into the trending topic and scrolled down, where she found a highly upvoted and commented post:


    MoneyMeansNoCilantro: ¡¾LMAO, I just asked my usual scalper about buying the "Twin Blades," and not only did he not have any, he started ranting about how his scalper group thought there was no need to hoard "Cultivator" merch since the stock seemed huge. By the time they realized how fast it was selling, it was too late to grab much.


    Especially since the "Cultivator" official site requires real-name verification to buy¡ªprobably to stop scalpers. The scalper told me they initially laughed at it, thinking, "Who¡¯d bother with real-name verification for a movie merch drop this big?"


    Now they¡¯re kicking themselves. The funniest part? By the time they scrambled to buy, the Twin Blades were already sold out.


    And besides me, SO many people are begging him for the Twin Blades, offering to pay extra. He¡¯s so mad he keeps muttering, "Why do modern people even want a sword?" and "How did they buy out everything in one night?"


    Honestly, his misery is so entertaining that I¡¯m not even as sad about missing out on the Twin Blades anymore!!¡¿


    The replies were full of schadenfreude, whether people had bought anything or not.


    ¡¾Hahaha, serves the scalpers right¡¿


    ¡¾No kidding, even I¡¯m shocked. I saw an interview with Chairwoman Sheng Quan where she admitted she didn¡¯t expect this level of demand¡ªshe said they¡¯ve already called the manufacturers to rush a second batch¡¿


    ¡¾I saw that too! When she said she wanted to buy a Twin Blades set for her home but couldn¡¯t even get one herself, her expression was priceless¡¿


    ¡¾At least the scalpers can take comfort¡ªeven Chairwoman Sheng couldn¡¯t get the Twin Blades!¡¿


    ¡¾Seriously, what modern person could resist a pair of Twin Blades?¡¿


    ¡¾My scalper was the same. When I asked, he just said "no stock" in the most defeated tone¡¿


    ¡¾Thank you, "Cultivator." Thank you, "Mortals." Finally, someone¡¯s put scalpers in their place¡¿


    Xie Wanzhao was confused by the term "Mortals" until she looked it up. It turned out to be the fandom¡¯s self-given name, inspired by the movie¡¯s lore where cultivators draw power from the faith of ordinary people.


    In other words, these fans were willingly offering their devotion¡ªand wallets¡ªjust like the mortals in the film.


    Even without having seen "Cultivator," Xie Wanzhao could sense the fans¡¯ passion from that nickname alone.


    They weren¡¯t just buying merchandise¡ªthey were desperate enough to pay scalpers¡¯ inflated prices for it.


    Xie Wanzhao: I don¡¯t understand the world anymore.


    China¡¯s movie merchandise industry had always been lackluster, developing late and progressing slowly. Audiences historically showed little willingness to spend on such products.


    Ironically, up until last year, the best-selling movie merchandise had all been from animated films.


    And even then, the so-called "merchandise" was just basic plushies, cups, and pillows¡ªnothing priced over 200 yuan, because anything above that wouldn¡¯t sell.


    This kind of frenzied, large-scale purchasing of high-priced merchandise was practically unheard of in Chinese cinema history.


    Xie Wanzhao¡¯s assistant, however, thought it wasn¡¯t entirely inexplicable:


    "It¡¯s probably impulse buying. Other movies¡¯ merch is usually pre-order with long wait times, but ''Cultivator¡¯s'' products are ready to ship, dropping right when fans are most obsessed. That¡¯s a recipe for impulse purchases."


    He predicted: "Within seven days, there¡¯ll definitely be a wave of returns."


    Seven days was about how long it took for the hype to fade. Once the excitement wore off, fans would look at their overpriced purchases and regret would replace enthusiasm.


    Plus, since the items were ready to ship, returns would be easy. A return wave was inevitable.


    Xie Wanzhao agreed with his reasoning.


    But seven days later, when fans had mostly received their orders, the wave that formed wasn¡¯t a return wave.


    It was a praise wave.


    ¡¾I was shocked when I got mine! The quality! The detail! How is this only 288 yuan?!¡¿


    ¡¾I didn¡¯t expect much¡ªanyone who buys merch knows you¡¯re usually paying premium prices for glorified junk. But this cup blew me away. It looks so high-end, way nicer than the 80-yuan cup I bought elsewhere. Unbelievably good value¡¿


    ¡¾OH MY GOD!!! I was kinda regretting spending 888 on this figurine, but now that it¡¯s here, I can¡¯t bring myself to return it. The details are insane¡ªthe proportions, the outfit, the expression! AAAAAH! My only regret now is not buying Lord Qingqing¡¯s too!¡¿


    ¡¾Look at my Taoist Xingyun, so damn handsome, seriously drop-dead gorgeous, the hormones radiating off him are overwhelming, wuwuwuwu where did the crew even dig up Jiang Zhen from, why is he only getting famous now!!¡¿


    ¡¾Jiang¡¯s fans are crying, I was a step too late when buying merch and couldn¡¯t even snag a single strand of Taoist Xingyun¡¯s hair, but I did get a pencil case¡ªway better than my old one! I put Jiang Zhen¡¯s photo inside!¡¿


    Audiences who impulsively bought merchandise might regret it at first, but once they held the actual products in their hands, they were pleasantly surprised to find the quality outstanding and the designs impeccable¡ªtotally worth the price.


    Of course, not everyone chose to keep their purchases. A handful opted for returns, only for the items to be snatched up the moment they were restocked.


    Xie Wanzhao: ¡°......¡±


    She even stumbled upon comments like this:


    ¡°I knew some people would buy on impulse and return stuff, so I kept refreshing the official site, but turns out I wasn¡¯t the only one with this idea! Over a dozen attempts, and I still couldn¡¯t grab anything!¡±


    Below, someone replied: ¡°Don¡¯t even mention it. After failing a few times, I tried second-hand sites, but it¡¯s insane¡ªevery listing gets bought in seconds. We¡¯re all just mortals here, can¡¯t you leave some for the rest of us?!¡±


    Those like Xie Wanzhao, who had been waiting to see Sheng Quan fail, were left speechless.


    In such a short time, the total sales of The Cultivator¡¯s merchandise had already surpassed 100 million.


    And with more and more people joining the viewing frenzy, the number of ¡°mortals¡± jumping into the buying spree would only grow.


    Anyone could see it¡ªSheng Quan was making a killing.


    The risks she took during the investment phase had now transformed into massive profits, and the merchandise sales would become a steady, long-term revenue stream for Xingyu Entertainment.


    There was another point Xie Wanzhao hadn¡¯t forgotten: the filming locations were built on land owned by Sheng Quan.


    The same people who once called her wasteful were now frantically calculating just how much profit the ¡°Ten Great Immortal Palaces¡± would bring her, given The Cultivator¡¯s explosive popularity.


    Xie Wanzhao¡¯s emotions were complicated.


    As a profit-driven businesswoman, she instinctively resented Sheng Quan for blocking her path to easy money this time.


    Yet, on a personal level, she couldn¡¯t help but admire her.


    Xie Wanzhao knew that The Cultivator¡¯s success wasn¡¯t just a one-time obstacle for The Ruthless Boss. Given Sheng Quan¡¯s current momentum, there would undoubtedly be a second, a third The Cultivator in the future.


    For production companies like hers, accustomed to dominating the Chinese market, the old ways of churning out low-effort, high-profit films would be completely obliterated if they didn¡¯t adapt.


    The logic was simple.


    A piece of fruit left out for days, slightly wilted¡ªif it¡¯s the only option, customers will eat it, pay for it, and even convince themselves: ¡°Not bad, at least it¡¯s got vitamins.¡±


    But what if, right beside it, there¡¯s a plate of freshly picked, vibrant, mouthwatering fruit?


    Xie Wanzhao felt the threat immediately.


    She had two choices:


    1. Stop being the wilted fruit. Strive to become the fresh one¡ªbut that required far more effort, investment, and came with higher risks.


    2. Drive the fresh fruit off the market. Without comparison, customers would have no choice but to settle for the wilted one.


    Logically, she knew she should pick option 2.


    But for some reason, she hesitated.


    Xie Wanzhao rarely second-guessed herself, and she¡¯d never been this conflicted without understanding why.


    Then, during a business trip abroad, exhausted after back-to-back meetings, she caught sight of a movie theater¡¯s billboard from the car window.


    She froze. ¡°The Cultivator is screening overseas?¡±


    Her newly promoted, slightly nervous Assistant No. 2 quickly confirmed:


    ¡°Yes, it premiered here a day ago.¡±


    ¡ªAnd the box office and reviews were phenomenal.


    He didn¡¯t add that last part, since The Cultivator was technically their competitor.


    Proud of his discretion, Assistant No. 2 was mentally patting himself on the back when Xie Wanzhao suddenly said:


    ¡°Pull over.¡±


    ¡°See if we can get tickets. We¡¯re going in.¡±


    Tickets were nearly sold out, but the assistant managed to secure three through a theater insider.


    The driver, arranged by their local partner, looked reluctant when handed his ticket but eventually took it, muttering under his breath in his native language:


    ¡°I¡¯ve never watched a Chinese movie before.¡±


    He¡¯d spoken softly, trailing several steps behind Xie Wanzhao, so she shouldn¡¯t have heard¡ªbut her ears were sharp.


    Though it was just a passing comment, and about The Cultivator no less, Xie Wanzhao¡¯s mood soured slightly.


    She knew the driver wasn¡¯t being dismissive of Chinese cinema¡ªit¡¯s just that in recent years, Chinese films had indeed grown increasingly mediocre.


    Even the box office hits were mostly comedies. When it came to high-budget fantasy epics, China had very few, and those that existed couldn¡¯t compete with their foreign counterparts.


    No wonder he wasn¡¯t interested. Truth be told, even she, a film investor, never stepped into theaters outside of screenings.


    But the moment she entered the cinema, Xie Wanzhao was taken aback by the sea of foreign faces filling nearly every seat.


    This many viewers?


    A xianxia film like The Cultivator had such high overseas attendance?


    As she sat down, she overheard a couple nearby whispering:


    ¡°I still think we should¡¯ve gone for the horror movie. A night like this is wasted otherwise.¡±


    ¡°Zhang said this one¡¯s amazing. You might end up loving it.¡±


    ¡°Come on, I saw the trailer. It¡¯s just Chinese mythology, right? Not my thing. Only Asians would get it. If it weren¡¯t for you, I wouldn¡¯t even be here.¡±


    The blonde girl sighed. ¡°Fine. If it¡¯s bad, we¡¯ll leave and grab tickets for Bloody Doll instead.¡±


    Then the film began.


    Xie Wanzhao was quickly absorbed, forgetting all about the foreign couple¡ªuntil the credits rolled.


    When she finally snapped out of it, she realized the couple hadn¡¯t left. The previously reluctant young man was now wide-eyed with excitement, turning to his girlfriend:


    ¡°Babe, can we watch it again?! That was incredible!¡±


    His suggestion was met with eager agreement¡ªclearly, the blonde girl felt the same.


    Around them, discussions and praises erupted, with many rushing to buy tickets for a second viewing or calling friends to rave about it.


    Walking through the crowd, Xie Wanzhao listened to their animated chatter.


    "Does China really have flying swords?"


    "Those creatures are so captivating."


    "Xinli, when I saw those cultivators soaring into the sky, my eyes were swollen from crying."


    "It''s so amazing, I have to tell everyone online."


    Xie Wanzhao quietly absorbed it all, her emotions a turbulent mix.


    In the car, she remained silent, while her young assistant, still buzzing from the movie, tried to contain his excitement upon remembering that "The Cultivators" was produced by a rival company. He could only secretly revel in his enthusiasm.


    Soon, the car pulled up at the hotel entrance.


    The driver stepped out and opened the doors for them.


    As Xie Wanzhao exited, the driver¡ªwho had previously dismissed Chinese films¡ªsuddenly spoke up:


    "Ma''am, that movie was truly mesmerizing. I wanted to ask, do those breathtaking landscapes in the film really exist in China? I¡¯d love to visit and see them for myself. It¡¯s just incredible."


    Xie Wanzhao paused for a moment before looking up with a faint smile.


    "Yes, all those scenes were filmed on location."


    The driver¡¯s face lit up with joy.


    "That¡¯s wonderful! I¡¯ll have to plan a trip soon."


    Once back in the car, he leaned out the window and gave a thumbs-up.


    "Ma''am, thank you for treating me to the movie. That Chinese film was truly outstanding."


    As the car drove away, Xie Wanzhao stood still, watching.


    Her assistant, noticing her silent gaze, grew uneasy.


    Did Chairman Xie just hear someone praise "The Cultivators" while she¡¯s here on a business trip? Is she furious now?


    Oh no, oh no... I even cried during the movie and laughed really loudly. Did she notice? She won¡¯t think I¡¯m secretly supporting the competition, will she?


    Lost in his thoughts, he suddenly heard Xie Wanzhao speak:


    "Call the office. Arrange a private screening of ''The Cultivators'' for all company employees."


    The assistant hesitated. "Should they leave negative reviews afterward? That might leak to the public..."


    Xie Wanzhao: "No, no bad reviews."


    The assistant sighed in relief.


    Of course. Someone like Chairman Xie wouldn¡¯t make such a rookie mistake.


    Then, he heard her continue:


    "Tell them to watch it properly¡ªand leave glowing reviews afterward."


    The assistant: "?"


    Is this some new competitive strategy?


    "Chairman Xie, what¡¯s the reasoning behind this?"


    Xie Wanzhao smiled, suddenly recalling the bold declaration she¡¯d made in her youth to her peers:


    "One day, I¡¯ll make Chinese films famous worldwide¡ªjust wait! Foreign movies will come to China to win our awards!"


    She hadn¡¯t achieved it.


    But the young, seemingly impulsive and idealistic Chairman Sheng Quan seemed to have taken the first step.


    With a laugh, Xie Wanzhao gave her answer, feeling a surge of exhilaration she hadn¡¯t experienced in years:


    "The reason?"


    "Because it¡¯s a Chinese film."


    She turned to her assistant. "From now on, we might need a fresh supply of fruit."


    Xie Wanzhao strode confidently toward the hotel entrance. Though no longer young, she felt invigorated, each step filled with purpose.


    The assistant pondered for a second before eagerly grabbing her bag and following.


    "Chairman Xie, I¡¯ll escort you to your room. Don¡¯t worry, I understand your intentions."


    He declared with confidence:


    "After I drop you off, I¡¯ll go buy fruit right away!"

 Chapter 46

    While surfing online, Sheng Quan came across the trending topic "#IronBloodBossProductionTeamBuysOutScreeningsForCultivator." It was clearly a purchased hashtag, but the effect was excellent.


    Among the currently released films, "Cultivator" and "Iron Blood Boss" had the highest buzz. Although "Cultivator" was far ahead in popularity, "Iron Blood Boss," with its all-star cast, also enjoyed decent box office numbers and discussions.


    What surprised everyone was that despite the obvious rivalry between the two films, the team behind "Iron Blood Boss," which was being overshadowed by "Cultivator," openly praised their competitor.


    In an interview video, a representative from Bluebird Film and Television Culture Media, the production company behind "Iron Blood Boss," smiled and responded:


    "This was a direct order from our chairwoman. She was on a business trip abroad when she saw that ''Cultivator'' had been released, so she went to watch it. After finishing the movie, she immediately called back and said it was amazing. She even asked why we hadn¡¯t produced something like this."


    "Yes, the money for the screenings came from the chairwoman¡¯s personal funds. She said everyone should watch it carefully and strive to make films as outstanding as ''Cultivator'' in the future."


    "Absolutely, I watched it too¡ªit was so good I didn¡¯t want to leave the theater. Competition? Well, yes, we¡¯re both in the Lunar New Year slot. Do we feel unlucky to be up against such a well-made film? No, not at all. Instead of bad luck, we see it as a blessing. Its success pushes us to create better works and stay humble and cautious."


    Xu Man and Lin Aike sat beside Sheng Quan and listened to the entire interview.


    Lin Aike, who had seen plenty of cutthroat competition in the film industry, immediately wondered: "Are they setting us up for a fall?"


    "No, they¡¯re adjusting their future strategy."


    Sheng Quan opened Feixin and sent a message to Gu Zhao:


    [Check the trending topic. You can cancel the contingency plan for potential malicious competition from Bluebird.]


    Two minutes later, Gu Zhao replied: [Understood. I¡¯ll have the entertainment marketing department coordinate with Bluebird¡¯s promotional efforts.]


    Given how explosively popular "Cultivator" was, dominating the box office and overshadowing all other films during the holiday season, Sheng Quan and her team weren¡¯t naive enough to assume competitors would just accept being eclipsed.


    Malicious competition was nothing new in the entertainment industry, so they had prepared countermeasures.


    But Bluebird¡¯s decision to step back took Starry Light by surprise.


    Now that Bluebird had made their stance clear, those defensive plans could be shelved for the time being.


    After explaining this, Lin Aike finally understood:


    "So, by praising ''Cultivator'' like this, they¡¯re trying not to make an enemy out of us?"


    "That¡¯s part of it, but the bigger reason is marketing strategy."


    Even though Sheng Quan was busy learning new things, her expertise in this field allowed her to see right through it:


    "Just look at the comments. Bluebird lost gracefully, showing a willingness to learn and improve. Plus, their film still has decent buzz, so this move will attract goodwill from neutral audiences and even some of our viewers, who might now buy tickets for their movie too."


    She gestured for Lin Aike to check the reactions under the hashtag:


    [LMAO, "Cultivator" is so good even the rival company¡¯s chairwoman got hooked!]


    [So jealous of Bluebird¡¯s employees¡ªwhy can¡¯t I get free tickets like this?!]


    [The chairwoman just gained a fan! Keep it up, looking forward to your future films!]


    [Honestly, "Iron Blood Boss" isn¡¯t bad either. It¡¯s not your fault "Cultivator" is just too good.]


    [The chairwoman is adorable hahaha. "Iron Blood Boss" is still solid¡ªI¡¯m watching it tonight with my coworkers!]


    [YES! "Cultivator" is THAT good! Everyone go watch it! (P.S. "Iron Blood Boss" is decent too, chairwoman, don¡¯t lose heart!)]


    Sheng Quan waved her phone and grinned. "Guess how many of these comments are from paid accounts?"


    "It¡¯s like a moderately popular celebrity openly declaring they¡¯re a fan of a superstar. If you humble yourself and shower them with praise, the superstar¡¯s real fans will naturally warm up to you."


    Lin Aike nodded. "Should we do something about it?"


    "Why bother?" Sheng Quan shrugged. "We¡¯re not losing anything. They¡¯re spending money to boost our box office and singing our praises to the skies. If they want to piggyback on our hype, let them."


    Xu Man sipped her milk tea while scrolling through comments.


    "True. ''Cultivator¡¯s'' buzz was starting to dip, but Bluebird¡¯s stunt gave it a second wind."


    No matter how great a movie is, hype naturally ebbs and flows¡ªpeople can¡¯t talk about the same thing forever.


    So if a topic stays trending, it¡¯s either because new developments keep drawing attention, or someone¡¯s actively fueling it.


    Having someone else pour money and effort into reviving "Cultivator¡¯s" hype? Sheng Quan was all for it.


    Others in the industry were surprised by Xie Wanzhao¡¯s approach, but they could still rationalize it.


    After all, Sheng Quan was known for her grand gestures, and Gu Zhao had a reputation for being ruthless¡ªeven willing to stab his own invested companies in the back. If Bluebird picked a fight, who knew who¡¯d come out on top?


    But Sheng Quan saw it differently.


    In the original story, "Cultivator" had also dominated the Lunar New Year box office.


    The book never mentioned "Iron Blood Boss," but based on her knowledge, Bluebird had spent a year and a half preparing this film¡ªmeaning it had also been crushed by "Cultivator" in the original timeline.


    Back then, however, "Cultivator" didn¡¯t have a heavyweight backer like Sheng Quan, so its growth was limited. If rival films had tried dirty tricks, "Cultivator" wouldn¡¯t have been able to fight back.


    Yet it still sailed smoothly through the holiday season, raking in profits and even making waves overseas.


    Whether "Cultivator" had a powerful supporter or not, Xie Wanzhao had made the same choice.


    When a reporter asked Sheng Quan, "How would you describe Xie Wanzhao, the chairwoman of Bluebird Film and Television?"


    Sheng Quan looked straight into the camera and answered earnestly:


    "She¡¯s someone I deeply admire. Yes, admire."


    At Bluebird¡¯s headquarters, Xie Wanzhao sat behind her desk, watching the interview replay on her computer. Slowly, she smiled.


    That night, when she received another call urging her to reconsider, her resolve remained unshaken:


    "Enough. My decision is final. Bluebird is heading in a new direction. Stick with me¡ªit¡¯s time for this industry to change."


    "Why? Well... maybe because I¡¯ve grown fond of a certain young woman. I¡¯d like her to keep admiring me."


    Thanks to "Iron Blood Boss¡¯s" relentless promotion, "Cultivator¡¯s" popularity surged again.


    The ?????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????cast of "Cultivator" was thrilled.


    Bluebird¡¯s praise was all-encompassing¡ªthey even extended audition invitations to several actors from "Cultivator."


    The reason given was: "The acting in The Cultivator was truly exceptional, so when we needed actors, our first thought was to invite them."


    For the online spectators, this development might seem like a whirlwind of excitement.


    But for the previously unknown actors before The Cultivator''s release, it was an enormous and unexpected surprise.


    The Cultivator was a rare film where every character shone, even those with just one or two scenes managed to captivate the audience.


    As a result, nearly every actor who appeared in the film¡ªno matter how minor their role¡ªsaw their careers skyrocket after its release.


    And since most of the actors in The Cultivator were relatively unknown beforehand, this rise to fame was even more striking.


    Take Shen Lv, for example. Before The Cultivator, she was stuck in that awkward phase of being almost-but-not-quite famous. Scripts always chose her, not the other way around. To land roles, she had to fight for every opportunity, no matter how small.


    But securing substantial or likable roles was incredibly difficult. Even if she managed to get one, there was always the risk of being replaced before filming began.


    A big-budget production like The Cultivator was something Shen Lv never dared to dream of. It wasn¡¯t even an audition arranged by her agency¡ªshe took the initiative herself, submitting her resume on a whim.


    Send the application, receive the callback, attend the audition.


    Then, as if in a dream, three days later, she got the news: she¡¯d landed the role.


    Shen Lv was overjoyed¡ªand terrified¡ªbefore filming began. She¡¯d wake up in the middle of the night, grabbing her phone to check for notifications, afraid that, like past opportunities, she¡¯d be replaced at the last minute.


    But in the end, she made it onto the set without a hitch.


    Once filming started, Director Xu Man was strict. A single imperfect shot could mean retakes a dozen times over. There were nights when the entire crew stayed awake just to capture the perfect sunrise.


    It was grueling work, but the overwhelming satisfaction of being praised as exemplary made all the exhaustion worth it.


    During a talk show, Shen Lv¡¯s eyes welled up as she recounted:


    "That day, right after my scene, Chairman Sheng Quan came to watch. She sat next to Director Xu, and when I finished, they both looked up at me. Chairman Sheng¡ªimitating her tone¡ªsaid:


    ¡®Xiao Lv, that was incredible. You moved Director Xu to tears. Our company has a new project¡ªgo audition for the lead. I think you can do it.¡¯"


    Shen Lv had never played a lead role before¡ªanyone who knew her career knew that.


    The host couldn¡¯t hide their envy: "You must have acted phenomenally to move them like that. Did you end up going?"


    Shen Lv nodded, wiping away tears: "I went. And I got the role that same day. I just¡ª"


    She laughed through her emotions. "It felt like a dream. My first lead role, just like that. I¡¯ll always be grateful to The Cultivator for giving me this chance. I¡¯ll never forget the way Chairman Sheng and Director Xu looked at me when they praised me."


    After the episode aired, Shen Lv¡¯s fans¡ªold and new¡ªwere both heartbroken for her past struggles and deeply touched by Sheng Quan¡¯s support.


    [She¡¯s a true mentor.]


    [Jiang Zhen also said Chairman Sheng discovered him¡ªhe was planning to be a martial arts instructor forever.]


    [A face like his, wasted as an instructor?? Thank you, Chairman Sheng!]


    [Sheng Quan has an eye for talent. I usually resent the wealthy, but I can¡¯t hate her¡ªevery gorgeous actor she¡¯s discovered is exactly my type!]


    [My heart aches for Lv Lv, but congrats¡ªyou¡¯ve finally been seen!]


    Several other cast members joined Shen Lv on the show, all expressing how honored they were to be part of The Cultivator.


    But the most active fanbase in the comments belonged to Jiang Zhen¡¯s supporters.


    Sheng Quan¡¯s prediction had been right: Jiang Zhen was the rare type of mature, magnetic actor who could skyrocket to fame with just one opportunity.


    While fresh-faced idols had their charm, Jiang Zhen¡¯s rugged, capable aura¡ªexuding both security and raw charisma¡ªdrew fans in instantly.


    As his fans put it: "How does he make every move, every glance, so heart-stoppingly captivating?"


    Even before The Cultivator hit streaming platforms, fans were obsessively clipping Jiang Zhen¡¯s talk show moments.


    The hottest edit? A video titled: [Jiang Zhen, You¡¯re Killing Me!!!]


    It zoomed in on his face, slowed down the footage, and set it to a dramatic soundtrack.


    The screen flooded with comments, especially during the moment when Jiang Zhen¡ªmid-sentence¡ªsuddenly smiled, as if recalling something sweet. He tried to hide it behind his hand, but the warmth in his dark eyes was unmistakable.


    Fans lost their minds.


    The comments were either lengthy odes to his beauty or keyboard-smashing screams.


    [AHHHHH JIANG ZHEN JIANG ZHEN JIANG ZHEN!!!]


    [TOO CHARMING OH MY GOD]


    [I FELL IN LOVE WITH HIM!]


    [How does his rugged face pull off such a devoted-husband vibe??]


    [This was when he talked about Chairman Sheng taking him for a check-up¡ªhe couldn¡¯t stop smiling! The host asked why he always grins when mentioning his boss, so next time he tried to hide it... but you can¡¯t hide those eyes, Zhen-ge!!!]


    [The hand-covering just made it hotter (can I say that?)]


    [Damn, this wild man is pure alpha energy!]


    [COOL!!!]


    [LMAO Jin Jiu slouched through every topic until the host brought up Sheng Quan¡ªthen he sat up straight, eyes sparkling, jumping into the conversation. So adorable!]


    [HOOOOOT!!!]


    [Why so many foreign comments? Is this a new fandom trend?]


    [Those are Zhen-ge¡¯s international fans! The Cultivator is huge overseas¡ªhe¡¯s making our country proud hahaha.]


    Sheng Quan stumbled upon this video too.


    Since The Cultivator¡¯s release, it had been a golden age for aesthetics enthusiasts, and she¡¯d spent days indulging in fan edits.


    The [Jiang Zhen, You¡¯re Killing Me!!!] clip? She liked, favorited, and rewatched it multiple times.


    After another viewing, she left a comment: [AHHH SO CHARMING SO WILD!! LOVE IT LOVE IT!]


    Then, unable to resist, she hit play again.


    As she was engrossed in watching, a knock came at the office door. Her eyes still fixed on the video, she called out, "Come in."


    Jiang Zhen pushed the door open and stepped inside. Hearing the background music, he paused momentarily, uncertain as he approached, "You wanted to see me?"


    Walking closer, he realized Sheng Quan was indeed watching a video of his appearance on a show, expertly edited into a compilation.


    Outwardly, Jiang Zhen remained composed, but his face instantly grew several degrees warmer.


    Sheng Quan, however, was perfectly at ease as she waved her phone lightly.


    "You should appear on more shows. You¡¯re even more captivating in person than on screen. I¡¯ll have your agent arrange it¡ªrefinement really does show through."


    The direct praise made Jiang Zhen¡¯s face burn even hotter.


    During the filming of The Cultivator, Sheng Quan would often drop by the set whenever she had time. As they grew more familiar, he noticed how much she enjoyed browsing popular apps among young people.


    He had seen her watching compilations of Jin Jiu, Yan Hui, and even a low-resolution clip of Gu Zhao making an appearance¡ªall of which she found utterly entertaining.


    Back then, Jiang Zhen had secretly harbored the ambitious thought that one day, Sheng Quan would inevitably come across a video of him too.


    Jiang Zhen wasn¡¯t particularly active on those platforms, but human nature craves attention.


    When he saw his fans mentioning this video on Weibo, he couldn¡¯t resist¡ªhe downloaded the app just to watch it.


    At the time, he¡¯d thought his fans were quite skilled at editing. But now...


    Remembering how the video had slowed down his otherwise ordinary movements, turning them into something far more suggestive, Jiang Zhen¡¯s ears flushed crimson in seconds.


    The tall man tried his best to maintain an indifferent expression, though his voice came out slightly hoarse.


    "As long as you¡¯re satisfied with my performance."


    Of course, Sheng Quan was satisfied.


    Jiang Zhen was currently the one contributing the most to her career metrics.


    Just one film¡ªThe Cultivator¡ªhad skyrocketed his career progress to 55%.


    To put it in perspective, even Yan Hui and Jin Jiu hadn¡¯t broken 50 yet.


    While The Cultivator¡¯s massive success played a part, Jiang Zhen himself was undeniably magnetic.


    From what Sheng Quan had gathered, among the film¡¯s cast, Jiang Zhen had attracted the most international fans¡ªby a landslide.


    This was partly due to cultural preferences. Overseas audiences tended to favor Jiang Zhen¡¯s style more than domestic ones, though lately, even fans who usually gravitated toward pretty-faced idols were starting to lean toward his type.


    Sheng Quan understood perfectly¡ªafter all, she was no different.


    And unlike those fans, she had the privilege of openly admiring Jiang Zhen whenever she pleased.


    Sometimes, when work or studies wore her out, she¡¯d head to the company gym, where a group of attractive actors and actresses would be working out¡ªJiang Zhen, now signed to the company, was naturally among them.


    Occasionally, when he noticed Sheng Quan "passing by," he¡¯d wipe the sweat from his brow and flash her a smile.


    Sheng Quan: Being the boss is the best.


    But as much as she enjoyed eye candy, business still came first.


    Soon, the crew would be attending the Golden Woods Award ceremony.


    Sheng Quan didn¡¯t have to go, but in this world, the Golden Woods Award carried immense prestige.


    Most importantly, this was the first time in five years that a Chinese film had been nominated for such an internationally renowned award¡ªand from the looks of it, the odds of winning were high.


    Leaning back in her chair, she shifted to the matter at hand.


    "I called you in because you¡¯ll be attending the Golden Woods Award too. We¡¯ll go get your formalwear fitted later."


    "Given how prestigious the Golden Woods is, are you nervous?"


    Jiang Zhen met Sheng Quan¡¯s gaze, watching the girl smile at him in the sunlight. The sharpness in his eyes softened, a faint warmth seeping into his expression.


    His answer was firm.


    "No."


    "Because we¡¯re going to win."


    Sheng Quan¡¯s smile widened. "That¡¯s right. We will win."


    A month later, the Golden Woods Award¡ªa globally revered institution in the film industry¡ªannounced its winning film:


    ¡ªThe Cultivator, from China.


    The news sent shockwaves across the nation.

 Chapter 47

    The Golden Woods Award and Chinese cinema¡ªbefore this, almost no one would associate the two, even though the award was famously known for being attainable as long as a film gained global popularity.


    When Sheng Quan read about the Golden Woods Award in the novel, the author had lavished pages of descriptions on how prestigious the award was in the highly competitive global entertainment industry, while Chinese films had remained virtually invisible on its stage.


    Seasoned readers (like her) could guess the plot¡¯s direction from this point.


    ¡ªGot it. The author would have their brilliantly crafted characters rise to fame one by one, dazzling internationally and sweeping awards that were previously out of reach.


    Cliche?? Sure. Predictable to veteran readers? Absolutely. But the journey was undeniably satisfying!


    That was exactly the mindset Sheng Quan had when she continued reading.


    Then, after the author had vividly brought these exceptional characters to life, making it crystal clear to readers that all they needed was a chance to shine... the author abandoned the story.


    Even now, the memory made Sheng Quan grit her teeth in frustration.


    Fortunately, ?????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????all she had to do was step outside to see the recording studios, training rooms, and dance halls filled with bright-eyed artists under her company¡¯s banner¡ªmany of whom had "vanished without a trace" in the original novel.


    Chairwoman Sheng¡¯s mood instantly lifted, replaced by a gleeful satisfaction at having altered the original plot:


    If the author wouldn¡¯t write about China winning awards, she¡¯d take her people there to claim them herself!


    And Sheng Quan wasn¡¯t the only one feeling this joy.


    When The Cultivator received its nominations, domestic media had already erupted in a frenzy of coverage.


    ["The Cultivator Sweeps Six Golden Woods Nominations, Nearly a Full Slate"]


    ["The Cultivator Gains Massive Overseas Popularity, Earns Golden Woods Nomination"]


    ["A-List Director Joss Masson Declares The Cultivator a Surefire Winner for Best Picture"]


    Five years. In that time, Chinese cinema hadn¡¯t just failed to win at such prestigious international awards¡ªit hadn¡¯t even secured nominations. Instead, the annual ritual had become watching celebrities shamelessly crash the red carpet.


    Occasionally, news would break about some star being escorted off for gatecrashing, and even those who weren¡¯t fans or didn¡¯t follow entertainment news would feel a mix of embarrassment and anger.


    As veteran moviegoers would say, "What a disgrace!"


    Sure, foreign celebrities crashed red carpets too, but with Chinese films absent from nominations, seeing their own stars "humiliate themselves" on the global stage felt like a national embarrassment.


    And now? A Chinese film had not only earned a Golden Woods nomination¡ªit had scored six, a rare feat.


    Media outlets weren¡¯t the only ones thrilled. Netizens were ecstatic.


    ["With six nominations, we¡¯ve got to win at least one, right?"]


    ["My cousin studies abroad, and she says The Cultivator is huge among her classmates. Shopping platforms are already selling cultivation tools, lol."]


    ["I¡¯ve been overseas for years, and this is the first time I¡¯ve seen a Chinese film this wildly popular."]


    ["I work at a burger joint, and customers ask me if cultivators are real. I said probably not... but who knows?"]


    At this stage, everyone remained cautiously optimistic, discussing the possibility of winning just one award¡ªtwo at most.


    After such a long dry spell, even those daydreaming about multiple wins were quickly reined in by more level-headed voices:


    ["This year¡¯s competition is brutal. Let¡¯s not get ahead of ourselves¡ªimagine the humiliation if we celebrate now and end up empty-handed."]


    Picture it: the entire nation¡¯s media hyping up a surefire victory, only for the awards to bypass them entirely. They¡¯d become a global laughingstock.


    This wasn¡¯t paranoia¡ªit was the last shred of dignity Chinese film fans could cling to after years of disappointment.


    Ironically, The Cultivator¡¯s strong chances made everyone even more cautious, terrified of jinxing it.


    Even reputable media outlets stuck to measured analyses, weighing the competition and predicting which categories The Cultivator might clinch.


    Clickbait accounts running headlines like ["Golden Woods Belongs to China This Year"] or ["Chinese Film Dominates with Six Wins"] were swiftly ratioed into oblivion.


    Previously, no platforms had livestreamed the Golden Woods ceremony¡ªafter all, Chinese audiences had zero interest in the proceedings.


    They¡¯d usually wait for post-award recaps and gossip roundups.


    But a month before the ceremony, platforms started fielding calls from viewers nationwide demanding live coverage.


    Under this public pressure, one platform after another announced they¡¯d broadcast the awards live.


    Some insiders thought the decision was rash and pointless.


    ["They¡¯re just jumping on the hype. Who¡¯s gonna sit through three-plus hours of this?"]


    ["Even the edited replays barely got viewers. Live streams can¡¯t even be fast-forwarded¡ªno one¡¯s got that kind of patience."]


    ["This is a mistake."]


    Then, as the ceremony began, viewers flooded in.


    Not only did they watch¡ªthey spammed live comments and lit up social media with real-time reactions.


    ["Oh hey, Kazan¡¯s here too!"]


    ["First time watching an awards show¡ªway more hype than I expected."]


    ["LMAO someone just ate it on the red carpet."]


    ["I¡¯m here! When does The Cultivator crew arrive?"]


    The excitement peaked when The Cultivator¡¯s team hit the red carpet.


    ["HERE THEY COME!!!"]


    ["Jiang Zhen! JIANG ZHEN MY KING!!"]


    ["How is he even hotter in person than on-screen??"]


    ["Dead at the foreign paparazzi losing their minds over him¡ªjust how famous is Zhen-ge abroad?"]


    ["HAHAHA he¡¯s speedwalking! Photographers are scrambling to keep up and getting blocked."]


    ["Did y¡¯all hear that one guy yell ¡®Jiang! Slow!¡¯ in broken Chinese? SO LOUD LOL."]


    ["HE YIN! HE YIN YOU¡¯RE GORGEOUS MY QUEEN!!"]


    The sight of foreign photographers chasing Jiang Zhen for shots was an ego boost for viewers.


    And as the rest of the cast followed, the cameras didn¡¯t let up¡ªa stark contrast to past headlines about "gatecrashers ignored by photographers."


    Amid the lively discussions online, the hashtag #JiangZhenWalksTooFastOnGoldenWoodsRedCarpetChasedByPhotographers# trended, followed shortly by other actors like He Yin also making their way onto the hot search list.


    This time, the Golden Woods Awards ceremony was no longer an outsider in the Chinese entertainment scene.


    [The moment Director Xu Man and Director Stephen shook hands really got me¡ªyou can tell Stephen admires Xu Man so much!]


    [Jiang Zhen¡¯s seat is so close to the front, and his posture is so proper, LOL!]


    [I spotted Sheng Quan¡ªshe looks stunning tonight too! The entire "Cultivator" crew is just packed with beauty, even the director and investors are gorgeous.]


    [To the comment above, take a look at the bald guy sitting next to Sheng Quan and the middle-aged man a few rows ahead¡ªthey¡¯re also investors in "Cultivator."]


    [It¡¯s starting! It¡¯s starting!]


    And then, the entire nation erupted in celebration.


    That night, livestreamers who were watching the broadcast and analyzing the event with their audiences grew increasingly exhilarated.


    Despite covering the film industry, their commentary took on the fervor of sports commentators during a championship match.


    "Congratulations to He Yin for winning Best Actress!!!"


    "Congratulations to Jiang Zhen for taking home the Golden Woods Award for Best Supporting Actor!!!"


    "Congratulations to Director Xu Man for winning Best Director!!!"


    "6666666!!!! Congratulations to ''Cultivator'' for winning the Golden Woods Award for Best Picture!!!! Six nominations, four wins¡ª''Cultivator'' is the undisputed champion of the night!!"


    "Let¡¯s give it up for ''Cultivator''!! For the entire crew!! For the director, the actors, and Sheng Quan¡ªcough¡ªsorry, my voice cracked. I need some water."


    It¡¯s no exaggeration to say that when "Cultivator" won Best Picture, countless people were so thrilled they could¡¯ve run laps around their neighborhoods.


    While the media and online influencers helped build this wave of national excitement, at its core, it was pure pride.


    Who said China doesn¡¯t make great films?


    Who called China a cinematic wasteland?


    Who claimed Chinese celebrities only go to these events to cling to the red carpet?


    Our "Cultivator" didn¡¯t just win Best Picture¡ªit took home four awards.


    People all over the world loved "Cultivator" and our actors.


    In an era where the global entertainment industry holds immense influence, "Cultivator¡¯s" triumph felt like winning an Olympic gold medal.


    Excitement, joy, pride, and happiness!


    In college dorms across the country, students erupted in cheers the moment "Cultivator" was announced as Best Picture.


    They even started chanting in unison:


    "Cultivator!! Cultivator!! Cultivator!!!"


    Dorm supervisors shouted at them to quiet down, but even they couldn¡¯t suppress their smiles.


    Similar videos spread like wildfire across social media, and instead of criticizing the late-night outbursts, netizens found themselves just as fired up.


    [Don¡¯t blame these students¡ªI was so hyped I almost ran outside myself!]


    [Ten years!! Ten years!! Finally, a Chinese film wins big!!]


    [Can¡¯t blame them for losing it¡ªfive years without a nomination, a decade without a win, and then suddenly four awards in one night? Anyone would go wild.]


    [Cultivator!! Cultivator!! Cultivator!!!]


    [I¡¯m both thrilled and jealous¡ªI¡¯ve seen so many photos of Sheng Quan posing with international A-listers. She¡¯s all smiles surrounded by all those gorgeous stars, and I¡¯m just here green with envy.]


    [Sheng Quan has done so much good in this world¡ªshe deserves every bit of this glory!]


    Sheng Quan was indeed having the time of her life.


    While the original novel didn¡¯t delve much into foreign entertainment industries, it was obvious that in a world where global cinema thrived, international stars were just as dazzling.


    As an investor in "Cultivator," Sheng Quan¡¯s 300 million yuan investment might not have been eye-popping in the hyper-competitive international market, but simply attending the Golden Woods Awards was a status symbol. Getting a few photos with celebrities wasn¡¯t hard.


    And once people learned she was the backer of "Cultivator," their smiles instantly warmed.


    She reveled in snapping pics with foreign heartthrobs and beauties, while Jiang Zhen, He Yin, and the others were also swarmed for photos.


    Xu Man was equally in demand. For a young director to helm a film like "Cultivator," win Best Director, and cement herself as a prodigy¡ªit was no surprise everyone wanted a piece of her.


    After the ceremony, Sheng Quan and the team stayed in Country A for a while longer.


    There were interviews to give and film-related events to attend.


    Sheng Quan wasn¡¯t too interested in those. The real reason she lingered was that after Xu Man¡¯s career progress bar skyrocketed to 70% and Jiang Zhen¡¯s leapt to 65% post-awards, she decided to ride the high and try her luck with a system lottery draw that very night.


    While people wondered why the "Cultivator" team hadn¡¯t returned home yet, Country A¡¯s media exploded with news:


    A legendary private estate, once valued at $1.13 billion, had changed hands.


    The new owner?


    Reportedly, a Chinese national.

 Chapter 48

    When the news first reached the country, no one paid much attention to it.


    A famous estate? A historical symbol in the eyes of A-country? Massive grounds? What did that have to do with them?


    They were too busy celebrating "The Cultivator" winning four awards.


    It wasn¡¯t until A-country¡¯s media reported that the new owner of the estate was of Asian descent that people started to take interest.


    [Asian descent? Could it be that so-and-so from H-country?]


    [There are only a handful of wealthy Asians in A-country, right?]


    [Jones Estate is pretty famous in A-country¡ªit¡¯s actually up for sale?]


    [Of course it is. Their land can be privately owned, so estates like this get passed down through generations. I saw Jones Estate listed as one of the world¡¯s most luxurious estates last year¡ªmaybe the buyer saw that ranking and decided to go for it.]


    [Wasn¡¯t it originally a castle? Built by some king or duke, then renovated later? I¡¯ve seen reports¡ªjust the exterior alone is ridiculously opulent.]


    When the media began speculating that the new owner might be of Chinese descent, the domestic netizens got a little excited.


    [Chinese descent? Nice, nice.]


    [Who could it be? Someone this impressive?]


    [I¡¯m dying to know¡ªis it a big shot from overseas or someone from back home?]


    [No need to get too excited. It¡¯s just "Chinese descent"¡ªtechnically, they¡¯re not even one of us anymore if they hold foreign citizenship. What does it have to do with us?]


    Finally, a clearly paparazzi-style photo was released by A-country¡¯s media.


    From the blurry side profile, it was a woman¡ªand a relatively young one at that.


    She was followed by a large entourage, with a man in a suit beside her gesturing forward as if giving a tour.


    The young woman wore casual clothes, while a tall man held an umbrella over her. Behind her, seven or eight men and women in black suits, all long-legged and wearing tactical earpieces¡ªclearly bodyguards¡ªfollowed closely.


    The photo was taken at sunset, and whether intentionally or not, the lighting was slightly dimmed, casting the group against the backdrop of the towering castle.


    In front of them, staff in uniforms stood waiting respectfully, smiling as they welcomed the estate¡¯s new owner.


    In modern internet slang, the scene was: aesthetic overload.


    Once the photo surfaced, those already interested grew even more excited, while even those who hadn¡¯t cared before were drawn in by the cinematic quality of the image.


    [Damn, is this some kind of mafia princess?]


    [Good lord, everyone in this photo has legs for days.]


    [The young woman under the umbrella is the mystery billionaire who bought Jones Estate? She looks way too young!]


    [Maybe she¡¯s just representing an older family member? But I swear she looks familiar.]


    [Same, I¡¯ve definitely seen her somewhere.]


    Before long, someone cracked the case: [Isn¡¯t that Sheng Quan?!]


    Sheng Quan wasn¡¯t a celebrity, but her fame was no less than that of a star¡ªespecially after "The Cultivator" swept awards at Golden Woods. Every member of the production team had been scrutinized at least three times over.


    Not to mention, the filming locations for "Ten Great Immortal Palaces" belonged to her. She was the project¡¯s biggest investor, a close friend of Xu Man, and even Jiang Zhen¡ªwho had skyrocketed to fame overnight¡ªwas an artist under Starlight Entertainment.


    Xu Man had mentioned in interviews more than once that the project was initially considered a gamble¡ªthe xianxia genre was practically frozen at the time. It was only because of Sheng Quan¡¯s unwavering support that "The Cultivator" became what it was today.


    Sheng Quan had fans¡ªa lot of them. Even before "The Cultivator" premiered, they had been making compilation videos about her. After the film¡¯s release, the praise reached new heights.


    One particularly popular clip featured Xu Man praising Sheng Quan on a show:


    "The pressure was insane¡ª''The Cultivator'' was bleeding money. When Sheng Quan saw how stressed I was, she just said, ''Keep filming. Wherever you go, I¡¯ll fund it.''"


    "Yeah, she loves xianxia. She believes it¡¯s something uniquely ours¡ªa kind of romance only China can offer."


    "Of course we worried about recouping costs. The budget was insane. But Sheng Quan was always calm. She never said, ''It¡¯s fine if we lose money.''


    She¡¯d just say, ''If this doesn¡¯t make bank, the world must be blind.'' Hahaha¡ªyeah, she¡¯s actually really funny in person."


    With ?????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????Sheng Quan¡¯s fans churning out content, even though she rarely appeared on camera, many had grown familiar with her face.


    And let¡¯s be honest¡ªshe was easy on the eyes, so people didn¡¯t mind looking.


    Given her public recognition, more and more people were convinced it was her in the photo.


    [It¡¯s her. No doubt about it.]


    [Is that my CEO Sheng?! Did she really buy Jones Estate?!]


    [I¡¯m not sure about Sheng Quan, but look at the guy holding the umbrella¡ªisn¡¯t he her bodyguard or assistant? He¡¯s been in all her past photos too.]


    Jiang Lu had always made an effort to stay low-key, but he was ex-military, not a superhero. If a camera caught him, it caught him.


    Previously, no one had noticed him. But this time, with the photo too blurry to confirm Sheng Quan¡¯s identity, people smartly started cross-referencing her usual companions.


    Soon, past photos of Jiang Lu surfaced.


    To everyone¡¯s surprise, this tall, intimidating man had appeared in every single picture of Sheng Quan.


    [He was sitting behind CEO Sheng during "Voices Have You"! How did I miss him? He¡¯s actually really handsome!]


    [He was tailing them when Sheng Quan and my fave went out for skewers! I thought it was just the two of them!]


    [This bodyguard¡¯s in all the BTS footage too¡ªevery shot of Sheng Quan, he¡¯s within a meter of her, sometimes left, sometimes right, but always there.]


    [Even in her photos with foreign celebrities, he¡¯s there.]


    [Now this is a real bodyguard. His bone structure is insane, yet even a thirsty mess like me never noticed him. Did this guy train in invisibility or what?]


    After some discussion, the conversation quickly zeroed in on the key point.


    Fact: The young woman in the photo is the new owner of Jones Estate.


    Also fact: The woman resembles Sheng Quan, and the umbrella-holding bodyguard is the same one always by her side.


    Conclusion: Sheng Quan bought Jones Estate.


    The previously slow-moving netizens suddenly got a shot of adrenaline, exploding with excitement.


    [OMG IS IT TRUE?! I¡¯m pretty sure Sheng Quan¡¯s nationality is still Chinese, right?!]


    ¡¾Upstairs, Sheng Quan is a pure-blooded Chinese, and she¡¯s super patriotic! Just look at her previous interviews and you¡¯ll see! And this time with "The Cultivator," she invested because she believes xianxia is uniquely Chinese!¡¿


    ¡¾Ahhhhhhh friends, don¡¯t miss the point! That 1.13 billion isn¡¯t in RMB! Converted to RMB, it¡¯s nine billion! Nine billion, friends!!!!¡¿


    ¡¾Who is Sheng Quan? Is she really that rich?¡¿


    ¡¾Sheng Quan is the kind of powerhouse who can donate 100 million, and my Queen Quan is dedicated to entertaining everyone¡ªand herself. Both "The Path of Life" and "The Cultivator" were funded by her. To film "The Cultivator," she even bought a plot of land in Shanghai to build the Ten Immortal Palaces!¡¿


    ¡¾LOL, so many media outlets in Country A are criticizing the Jones family, saying they shouldn¡¯t have sold the historic Jones Manor to a foreigner. I find this absolutely delightful.¡¿


    And it wasn¡¯t just this netizen who felt delighted. In fact, most people found it downright exhilarating to see those critical headlines.


    If Sheng Quan had spent nine billion domestically on something, there might have been a few sour comments.


    If she¡¯d bought a historically significant estate in China, the backlash would¡¯ve been massive.


    But the key point here? She bought a historic landmark in Country A.


    And not just any landmark¡ªa famous one, known to every citizen of Country A. The more Country A¡¯s media criticized and lamented this extravagant cross-border transaction, the more the Chinese public reveled in it.


    Netizens happily chimed in:


    ¡¾Why so upset? Jones Manor was sold at auction¡ªit¡¯s not like Country A¡¯s citizens were barred from bidding. Highest bidder wins, what¡¯s there to complain about?¡¿


    ¡¾Exactly, if Country A didn¡¯t want to sell its cultural heritage, its own wealthy could¡¯ve bought Jones Manor¡¿


    ¡¾HAHAHAHAHA everyone, let¡¯s not be too harsh. We¡¯re all part of the global village¡ªlet¡¯s keep things friendly. Country A¡¯s collectors have taken plenty of Chinese artifacts over the years. It¡¯s only fair we return the favor by spending nine billion on one of their historic estates.¡¿


    ¡¾LOL, did you notice the guy introducing Sheng Quan in the photo? That¡¯s the eldest son of the Jones family. His attitude is practically fawning.¡¿


    A few voices remained level-headed:


    ¡¾Let¡¯s not jump to conclusions. That was just a candid photo¡ªwe don¡¯t know for sure if Sheng Quan bought Jones Manor. Even if it¡¯s really her in the picture, maybe she was just invited for a tour.¡¿


    But before this comment could gain traction, Sheng Quan updated her Weibo:


    Sheng Quan: ¡¾Housewarming party¡ªfinally, a place big enough for the whole crew to stay!¡¿


    The post was accompanied by photos of Jones Manor¡¯s interiors:


    A swimming pool, golf course, castle complex, basketball court, tennis court, massive gym, grand library, even an entire forest, a flower conservatory, and a helipad¡ªamong countless other luxuries.


    The entire crew attending the Golden Woods Awards was gathered for the party, all smiles and laughter.


    Netizens¡¯ reactions?


    ¡¾So our Queen Sheng really just went to an awards show and impulsively bought a manor this huge?! AHHHHHHH!!!!¡¿


    ¡¾You bought Jones Manor just to house the crew?! The extravagance!!!¡¿


    ¡¾AHHHHHH I¡¯ve turned into a screaming chicken AHHHHHH¡¿


    Sheng Quan lounged on a luxurious poolside recliner, sipping from her glass of... ice-cold cola, as she scrolled through the flood of shocked comments from domestic netizens.


    Why had she bought Jones Manor?


    What was she going to do with it?


    Honestly, she¡¯d love to know too.


    Sheng Quan had resisted the urge to use her lottery draws for months, patiently waiting until both Xu Man and Jiang Zhen¡¯s career progress exceeded 55% before finally cashing in.


    And what did she win?


    Jones Manor¡ªmid-auction.


    Valued at over nine billion RMB, ranked among the world¡¯s top ten most luxurious estates.


    To be fair, saving up those lottery credits wasn¡¯t a loss¡ªin fact, it was a steal.


    Maintenance costs, miscellaneous expenses¡ªall covered under the lottery¡¯s terms. Not a single penny out of pocket, and she walked away with a estate most could only dream of.


    But here was the problem: How many days a year would Sheng Quan actually spend here?


    She had little interest in living abroad. Even with every imaginable luxury at her fingertips, CEO Sheng preferred life back home¡ªpopping into her company, indulging in shopping sprees, or dropping by her funded film sets for some entertainment.


    Selling it for cash wasn¡¯t an option. Opening it to the public? Even if others didn¡¯t think she¡¯d lost her mind, she¡¯d feel it was a colossal waste herself.


    So, in the end, this sprawling estate¡¯s greatest purpose?


    Flexing.


    Months of saved lottery credits, all for one epic flex.


    Sheng Quan set her glass down with a thud.


    But that was fine.


    The upside of flexing? Everyone would bend over backward to please her.


    She turned to her secretary, whose phone hadn¡¯t stopped buzzing with calls:


    ¡°Another party invitation?¡±


    The secretary hastily muted her phone:


    ¡°Yes, the chairman of Winston wants to invite you to a banquet next Monday.¡±


    Sheng Quan: ¡°How many invitations does that make now?¡±


    ¡°The seventh for formal banquets, but there are also cocktail parties, beach bashes¡ªI¡¯ve logged them all.¡±


    ¡°Oh, and several directors are seeking your investment.¡±


    Sheng Quan¡¯s purchase of Jones Manor wasn¡¯t just jaw-dropping to the average person¡ªeven among Country A¡¯s elite, it was an obscene display of wealth.


    Whether she¡¯d be welcomed back home remained to be seen, but in money-worshipping Country A, Ms. Sheng Quan from China had instantly become the most sought-after guest at every high-society event.


    But why should she attend their parties?


    Sheng Quan stood, tossing her robe onto the recliner:


    ¡°Draft a guest list. I¡¯m hosting a banquet at the manor. Aside from Golden Woods nominees, curate a selection of high-quality international films that didn¡¯t make the cut.¡±


    Having just flaunted her power, Sheng Quan knew invitations from her would be hard to refuse.


    And these ¡°elite socialites¡± would attract more of their kind.


    Gradually, Jones Manor¡ªno, Starlight Manor¡ªwould become the next glittering mecca for the global elite.


    After giving her orders, she stretched and dove gracefully into the pool.


    If she was going to flex, she might as well go all out.


    After all, who¡¯s to say she couldn¡¯t create a second Golden Woods?

 Chapter 49

    Ms. Sheng Quan from China was preparing to host a banquet at her newly purchased estate.


    The timing of the event was set quite flexibly, allowing her invited guests ample time to clear their schedules in advance.


    At first, figures in the film industry didn¡¯t think this had much to do with them, but the media eagerly reported every detail about the grand occasion.


    Hosting a banquet after buying a new estate wasn¡¯t unusual¡ªmany people invite friends and family to visit their new homes.


    However, as the exact date of the event was finalized, public interest grew exponentially.


    Initially, the buzz stemmed from the lingering hype around the "estate changing hands." Later, people noticed that every confirmed attendee seemed to be a heavyweight.


    "Mr. Wells is actually going? He hasn¡¯t made a public appearance in ages."


    "Ms. Lauren has confirmed her attendance."


    "Fili has also indicated he¡¯ll be there with a gift."


    The confirmations from these high-profile, affluent figures sparked widespread speculation.


    Most wondered about Sheng Quan¡¯s identity and background¡ªwhat kind of influence could draw so many prominent figures?


    Guests spanned business, legal circles, and even politics.


    Some even speculated she might be a princess from Asia, only to be corrected that China isn¡¯t a constitutional monarchy¡ªno queens, let alone princesses.


    With "big names flocking in," the upcoming banquet quickly became the hottest topic among netizens. By the end, its perceived prestige ranked among the top-tier events of recent years.


    While the public was still dissecting the guest list, savvy individuals were already scrambling to secure an invitation.


    This was why the guest list snowballed. In Country A, the stature of such banquets depended on the weight of the names on the invitation list.


    To achieve this effect, Sheng Quan had invested heavily in "philanthropy" and "business ventures."


    As a non-citizen of Country A, she needed a reliable professional with local nationality to navigate the process. Considering she might not visit often, she also required a long-term agent. Ultimately, Sheng Quan hired one¡ªLane, an alumnus of Gu Zhao¡¯s university.


    However, Lane wasn¡¯t actually recommended by Gu Zhao. Oddly, when Sheng Quan asked him, the usually meticulous and confident workaholic admitted:


    "I don¡¯t fully trust my judgment in people, but I know a respected elder who might recommend the right person for you."


    And so, Lane got the job.


    Like Gu Zhao, Lane was a genius of the same age.


    To this day, Sheng Quan wondered if Gu Zhao had included "appearance" in his criteria when consulting the elder, because Lane was strikingly handsome.


    His ?????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????features even bore a slight resemblance to Gu Zhao¡¯s, though where Gu Zhao leaned toward an Asian aesthetic, Lane embodied classic Western beauty.


    His flawless features were one thing, but despite not being young, he exuded a youthful charm, especially with those strikingly clear blue eyes.


    He even had a rare head of pure, golden hair.


    Of course, Gu Zhao wouldn¡¯t recommend just a pretty face.


    His exact words were: "His life pursuits differ from mine, which is why he¡¯s less known. But you can trust him with any task¡ªhe¡¯ll handle it well."


    "Of course, if he underperforms, don¡¯t hesitate to fire him."


    After a pause, Gu Zhao added, "He¡¯s quite skilled at winning people over. You might want to keep that in mind."


    Sheng Quan didn¡¯t dwell on the "winning people over" part¡ªshe was surrounded by charmers.


    But she soon understood what Gu Zhao meant by "different life pursuits."


    Lane was undoubtedly talented, but his personality and work style were polar opposites of Gu Zhao¡¯s.


    Gu Zhao was a relentless workaholic, squeezing productivity into every minute, with hobbies like sipping coffee while overtime.


    During his interview, Lane had smiled and fluently stated in Mandarin:


    "I hope you¡¯ll allow me to work no more than four hours daily. Trust me¡ªthat¡¯s all I need to complete any task you assign."


    He even presented a detailed vacation schedule, complete with reasons¡ªthough these were almost comically vague. Sheng Quan had never seen someone list "worked for a month straight, need three days off" as a valid excuse.


    The three days of rest naturally did not include the holidays Sheng Quan already had.


    Sheng Quan: "So this is how you maintain your beauty."


    In the end, she hired this "four-hour gentleman," even though his salary was exorbitantly high.


    When Lane heard Sheng Quan say he was hired, his confident smile faltered for a moment before widening even further.


    "Thank you for your trust. I¡¯ll do my best."


    Sheng Quan later learned that due to Lane¡¯s "pretty vase appearance" and his seemingly unreliable personality, he had never managed to secure a stable job since graduating.


    When she asked about his previous sources of income, he answered with complete honesty:


    "Stocks, investments¡ªthese are enough for me to live comfortably every day."


    After a pause, he added:


    "Of course, the initial capital came from family support. They¡¯ll only fund me until I¡¯m thirty-five, so I had to find a new job."


    Sheng Quan wasn¡¯t entirely surprised. Someone like Lane, brimming with confidence, retaining a youthful charm at his age, and still able to negotiate vacation time so casually despite never landing a suitable job, clearly had substantial financial backing.


    What did surprise her was that Lane was actually related by blood to Gu Zhao.


    The golden-haired, blue-eyed beauty smiled and said, "In your Chinese terms, I should call him my cousin. We come from the same family. Ryan could also receive financial support from the family."


    Ryan must be Gu Zhao¡¯s English name.


    Lane shrugged at this point, making a helpless expression:


    "But he refused the family¡¯s support. In fact, I haven¡¯t seen him since he came of age. Him reaching out to me is even more unbelievable than me finally getting a job."


    Sheng Quan suddenly understood.


    No wonder she thought they looked alike.


    No wonder Gu Zhao always gave off the vibe of a meticulously groomed elite from a prominent family.


    The family genes were strong, producing two geniuses like Gu Zhao and Lane¡ªand both so strikingly handsome.


    In some ways, Lane really was similar to Gu Zhao. For instance, he could quickly decipher Sheng Quan¡¯s expressions:


    "Don¡¯t misunderstand¡ªour family isn¡¯t some illustrious dynasty. It had its glory, but now it¡¯s decayed. Ryan was right to leave."


    "If it were truly powerful, it wouldn¡¯t only support us until thirty-five. From what I know, our ancestors enjoyed lifelong privileges."


    It was clear he felt some regret about not being able to live off the family fortune forever like his forebears.


    Sheng Quan even suspected that his earlier claims of struggling to find work were just excuses¡ªhe simply hadn¡¯t wanted to work.


    Of course, Lane denied this, insisting:


    "I came for my dear brother. I was curious about who could make him reach out to me."


    Sheng Quan: "And now? Has your curiosity been satisfied?"


    "Absolutely."


    Despite their blood relation, Lane¡¯s smile was the polar opposite of Gu Zhao¡¯s.


    Gu Zhao exuded restraint whether he smiled or not, while Lane... When he curved those clear blue eyes and focused that enchanting, almost elven gaze on someone, his expression carried a mix of sincerity and temptation:


    "After spending time with you, I have to admit¡ªyou¡¯re worth his effort."


    Sheng Quan chuckled. "Flattery won¡¯t work on me. No matter how sweet you are, I won¡¯t approve your afternoon off. Remember our deal: finish your work, and then you can rest as much as you want."


    For subordinates who¡¯d go to war for her, she was exceedingly considerate.


    But for someone like Lane, who clearly just wanted to slack off, Boss Sheng had a heart of steel.


    The devastatingly handsome man, who had looked utterly sincere moments ago, sighed and returned to his seat. Ever the opportunist, once he realized Sheng Quan wasn¡¯t swayed, he swiftly switched to professional mode:


    "I should¡¯ve known. You are Ryan¡¯s boss, after all."


    Though Lane seemed like the epitome of laziness, his competence matched Gu Zhao¡¯s claims. Every task Sheng Quan assigned was executed flawlessly.


    Of course, this came at a steep price.


    In Country A, where money talked, substantial funds allowed Sheng Quan to build an unimaginably vast network in record time.


    Especially with Lane¡ªa genius who knew every rule of Country A¡ªby her side.


    He seemed born for the world of clinking glasses and backroom deals, gliding through every circle with a charming yet trustworthy smile, turning the money Sheng Quan allocated into maximum returns.


    The only thing he couldn¡¯t quite grasp was why, without anyone demanding it, Sheng Quan would always reinvest double the funds he spent back into China.


    The money spent in Country A could at least be said to bring Sheng Quan extensive networking opportunities and exposure, as well as lay a solid foundation for the "Starlight Cup."


    But spending it in China without any publicity? To Lane, it seemed like throwing money into the water.


    "You could say I''m being overly sentimental, or that I''m just seeking peace of mind." Sheng Quan readily admitted that this was a purely heartfelt decision, devoid of any profit-driven considerations. "At least part of the charitable funds I invest here will go toward the development projects of Country A''s government."


    "Even though I know it''s a trade-off for what I want, it just doesn¡¯t sit right with me. I have to give back double to my own country before I can feel at ease."


    Of course, this was only possible because money wasn¡¯t an issue for her. If she were pinching pennies, she definitely wouldn¡¯t do this.


    Seeing that Lane understood but still didn¡¯t quite relate, she gave him a blunt analogy:


    "It¡¯s like you¡¯re forced to buy an expensive silk ribbon for someone else¡¯s mother for work, but you¡¯ve never gotten your own mother such a gift. If your finances allowed, wouldn¡¯t you also buy a ribbon for her?"


    Lane thought for a second and answered honestly:


    "My relationship with my mother is terrible. Rather than a ribbon, I¡¯d prefer to gift her a pair of handcuffs."


    "But I understand your point. You love your country deeply, so for the upcoming banquet and media coverage, I¡¯ll do my best to steer things in a direction you¡¯ll appreciate."


    Sheng Quan quickly realized what Lane meant by "a direction she¡¯d appreciate."


    The next day, she stared at the "gift" before her, lost in thought.


    Lane smiled and reassured her:


    "Don¡¯t worry, this is completely legal in Country A. The estate is your private property, and here, you have every right to do this. No one will question it."


    His slender right hand rested on his left shoulder as he gave a slight bow of respect. His emerald eyes lifted to meet hers, glinting with anticipation.


    "I believe you¡¯ll enjoy this welcome gift."


    Sheng Quan looked at the "gift" and fell silent.


    Gu Zhao was right¡ªthis guy really knew how to win people over.


    She resisted, held back... but no, what Chinese person could withstand such a "gift"?


    "...Well done. Starting now, you get an extra day off every month!"


    A day later.


    A strikingly clear photo began circulating across Chinese social media.


    A grand, historically imposing castle complex stood quietly¡ªnone other than the recently viral "Jones Estate."


    And in front of it, a vibrant red Chinese national flag fluttered proudly in the wind.

 Chapter 50

    As Lane had mentioned, Country A doesn¡¯t have a flag law, and it¡¯s common to see Chinese flags hanging on the streets of Chinatown. But still, it just feels exhilarating to see.


    Netizens immediately went wild.


    [This is next-level!!!]


    [So satisfying! I love this splash of red!]


    [President Sheng Quan really knows how to get things done!]


    [To those asking if Country A has any objections¡ªfirst, this is completely legal there, and second, have you not been keeping up with the news? Sheng Quan is incredibly popular in Country A right now.]


    This was indeed the truth.


    In an era dominated by entertainment, the power of money is particularly pronounced in Country A. Even if it wasn¡¯t obvious before, when numerous high-profile, wealthy elites accepted invitations to the banquet, the media¡¯s narrative naturally shifted.


    Combined with Lane¡¯s financial influence, the hottest topic in Country A recently became the "Starlight Banquet."


    At first, domestic netizens meticulously analyzed each confirmed attendee¡ªtheir backgrounds, assets, and achievements. But soon, the sheer number of guests made it impossible to keep track.


    While the absolute top-tier magnates of Country A remained silent, the gathering of "ordinary elites" from various industries was still staggering.


    [This is the first time I¡¯ve seen a Chinese national make such a huge splash in Country A.]


    [The scale is impressive, but what¡¯s even more mind-blowing is the sheer breadth of her connections!]


    [No wonder so many people in Country A are scrambling for invitations. Just imagine¡ªthis banquet is bringing together industry leaders from every sector. Even a brief conversation could open doors for collaborations or investments.]


    [More than that¡ªmy mom once attended a niche tech conference in her field. She didn¡¯t meet any big shots, but later, just mentioning she¡¯d been there instantly boosted her credibility in business negotiations.]


    [Forget these professionals¡ªeven I want to go. An event of this caliber must be incredible.]


    [Ahhhh! Just thinking about all these elites stepping into a manor flying our flag fills me with joy!]


    While casual observers were just enjoying the spectacle, those who had previously crossed paths with Sheng Quan were utterly shocked.


    Wait, weren¡¯t we all supposed to be on the same playing field?


    No one could see how much Sheng Quan had spent, but everyone witnessed the overwhelming support from Country A¡¯s elite circles¡ªbig, medium, and small.


    "I finally get it. There were always rumors she returned from abroad¡ªturns out that¡¯s her real stronghold."


    When several CEOs who had previously competed with Starlight Entertainment met, their conversations inevitably revolved around Sheng Quan:


    "I figured as much. Even someone like Charles is attending."


    "If she¡¯s this wealthy, why bother starting a company domestically? Overseas, the entertainment industry is way more straightforward."


    All this talk was just thinly veiled envy.


    The banquet had invited renowned directors, major film investors, and practically everyone of note in the entertainment world.


    To many, this seemed like an insurmountable network¡ªyet they didn¡¯t even qualify to attend, while Sheng Quan was the host.


    How could they not be bitter?


    But Sheng Quan wasn¡¯t even the main source of their envy. What really stung was that all the investors who had backed "The Cultivator" were on the guest list.


    It wasn¡¯t that their inclusion was unfair¡ªthey were business partners, after all.


    The real pain point?


    "Why didn¡¯t I invest in ''The Cultivator'' when it started production?"


    Forget the chance to partner with Sheng Quan or attend the banquet¡ªjust the massive returns from "The Cultivator" were enough to make them regret missing out.


    After all, "The Cultivator" was now screening in multiple countries, wildly popular in both Eastern and Western markets.


    "Xianxia is a uniquely Chinese concept. How are foreigners embracing it so easily?"


    They were industry veterans, so they knew the answer.


    Why wouldn¡¯t foreigners accept it? When foreign films with culturally specific themes¡ªlike magic¡ªwere introduced to China, didn¡¯t Chinese audiences love them too?


    Before Western fantasy films arrived, when had Chinese audiences ever talked about "magic"?


    There was no reason audiences elsewhere wouldn¡¯t embrace foreign narratives. At the end of the day, quality speaks for itself.


    But missing out on this colossal success¡ªeven if they couldn¡¯t blame Sheng Quan¡ªleft them deeply frustrated.


    As they grumbled together, one CEO¡¯s phone rang.


    He stepped out to take the call, and within seconds, his tone turned excited.


    "What? Huang Yan received an invitation? To the Starlight Banquet? Are you serious?"


    His subordinate quickly confirmed:


    "Yes! The invitation came from Country A, but I double-checked with Starlight Entertainment¡ªit¡¯s legitimate."


    Glancing at Huang Yan, who sat across from him with a mix of shock and anticipation, he added:


    "General Manager Ma, since the invitation is confirmed, should we let Huang Yan go?"


    Lately, General Manager Ma had repeatedly complained about Sheng Quan¡¯s "unnecessary" banquet, so the subordinate worried he might refuse.


    If he forbade it now, Huang Yan¡ªalready mentally packing her bags¡ªwould explode.


    Fortunately, General Manager Ma rose to the occasion.


    "Go! Of course she should go! This is an incredible opportunity¡ªshe must seize it!"


    "Not just her¡ªarrange a team for her. Get the gown sorted ASAP, hire three photographers to cover her... Only one invitation? Then have them shoot her entering the manor from outside!"


    After rapid-firing instructions, he finally thought to ask:


    "Did Starlight say why Huang Yan was invited?"


    "It¡¯s because of her film ''Velocity'' this year. She called and confirmed¡ªnot just her, but the male lead, supporting actress, director, and screenwriter all got invites."


    "Velocity," released earlier that year, had performed well at the box office despite not being a holiday blockbuster. Huang Yan played the female lead.


    The subordinate explained: "Starlight said President Sheng Quan considers ''Velocity'' an outstanding film, hence the invitations."


    "Excellent! Excellent!" General Manager Ma was too thrilled to dwell on past grievances. As far as he knew, the Starlight Banquet would host not just tycoons but also top-tier international directors.


    If one of their artists caught the eye of a global filmmaker...


    General Manager Ma was practically vibrating with excitement.


    After reiterating a few more orders, he hung up, heart racing.


    Sheng Quan...


    Who¡¯d have thought? Even overseas, she¡¯d handed him such an incredible gift.


    When the door opened again and General Manager Ma re-entered, the others glanced at him and asked, "What''s up, Lao Ma? Who''s looking for you at this hour?"


    "It''s company business." General Manager Ma sat down with a cheerful smile. "Where were we just now?"


    "We were talking about Starlight¡ªit''s bizarre how their roster isn''t huge, but every artist they have is top-tier."


    In the past, General Manager Ma would¡¯ve half-jokingly, half-enviously grumbled about it.


    But now, his expression remained unreadable. "Indeed, Chairman Sheng Quan has an impeccable eye. Truly admirable."


    "When she returns to the country, I¡¯ll make sure to congratulate her properly."


    The person who¡¯d been speaking stared at him. "...Are you feeling alright? Did you take the wrong pills?"


    "What¡¯s with that tone? Can¡¯t I praise Chairman Sheng Quan a little? She¡¯s achieved such remarkable success at such a young age¡ªisn¡¯t that worthy of admiration?"


    The man: "..."


    The others: "..."


    The stark contrast made it seem as if the person who¡¯d been sour earlier wasn¡¯t him at all.


    Just as the man was about to press further, his phone rang.


    He stepped out to take the call, and when he returned, the smile on his face mirrored General Manager Ma¡¯s perfectly.


    "Hahahaha, where were we? Oh right, Chairman Sheng Quan¡ªhahahaha, Lao Ma¡¯s absolutely right."


    "Despite her youth, Chairman Sheng Quan truly proves that the new generation surpasses the old."


    They weren¡¯t the only ones receiving such pleasant surprises.


    A well-known director, upon receiving an invitation, immediately packed his bags to fly to Country A in excitement.


    "What do you mean it¡¯s too late to go tonight? Director Cobus will be at that banquet! Even if it were raining knives, I¡¯d still go!"


    Meanwhile, a screenwriter at home, slurping instant noodles while drafting a script, checked his email and shot up in shock. His family watched in bewilderment as he scrambled to leave. "What¡¯s the rush?"


    "Mom, I have to go to Country A¡ªI got an invite to the Starlight Banquet! Holy cow! There¡¯ll be so many internationally renowned screenwriters there!"


    Similar scenes played out across multiple countries.


    In Country B, a celebrity frowned at her invitation. "Starlight Banquet? What¡¯s that?"


    Too busy to keep up with the news, she turned to her agent, who instantly lit up.


    "Starlight? The former Jones Manor, now renamed Starlight? Oh my God, you got an invite? This is huge!"


    "Do you know how many people would kill for this? It¡¯s the hottest event in Country A right now¡ªjust being invited is a status symbol! We need to make sure this gets proper media coverage."


    In another country, a middle-aged man struggling to make ends meet clutched his plane ticket with trembling hands.


    The Starlight Banquet... this was his last shot at redemption.


    At the same time, in an Asian country, an entire agency was in a frenzy after their artist secured an invitation.


    "Release the news immediately. Have our media contacts amplify it."


    "No, don¡¯t just report the facts¡ªplay up how exclusive the Starlight Banquet is. Make sure the whole country knows how high the bar is!"


    The concept of "gilding" is universal, much like "carpet-chasing" at high-profile events.


    Having missed their chance at Golden Woods, they now saw the Starlight Banquet as a second opportunity.


    In an industry built on prestige, when artists from around the world received their invitations, their agencies would inflate the banquet¡¯s reputation from three to nine points.


    The more the public perceived the Starlight Banquet as elite, the more impressive those with invites would seem.


    Even those who¡¯d dismissed it earlier now changed their tune.


    Criticizing someone else¡¯s cake is easy¡ªbut when you get a slice yourself, the story changes.


    Sheng Quan was weaving a vast spider¡¯s web.


    The nearly ten-billion-dollar manor was her chosen nexus.


    Using wealth to secure the first wave of guests was like testing the waters with a single strand.


    Then came the second, the third.


    Seemingly haphazard, yet every move was calculated, carefully constructing the framework.


    Now, the framework was complete.


    With a gentle flick, the newly invited guests became threads of silk, intertwining and expanding the web on their own¡ªno urging needed.


    A grand web, starting from Sheng Quan, now stretched across the world.


    "What a masterful play with human nature," Lane murmured, clad in an emerald-green suit as he stood beside Sheng Quan atop the castle, gazing at the scene below.


    "You¡¯ve elevated this banquet far beyond its original worth."


    Sheng Quan smiled at the bustling crowd. "Just the first step, really."


    The manor blazed with light as guests streamed in.


    Outside, flashes from cameras lit up the night¡ªreporters from around the world, barred from entry, scrambled for shots.


    Their ?????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????hunger for headlines only added to the grandeur.


    Such banquets were always chaotic, with everyone finding someone to talk to all night.


    But when Sheng Quan appeared, all eyes turned to her.


    They might not have come for her¡ªbut no one could deny that tonight, she was the undisputed star.


    She exchanged brief, polished words with eager guests while the manor shone like daylight. Beyond the gates, camera shutters clicked relentlessly; online, discussions about the banquet¡¯s details spread like wildfire.


    More celebrities arrived, their luxury cars and trailing national flags captured by the press.


    Lane lingered in the shadows, watching Sheng Quan under the lights¡ªher smile polite, her demeanor poised, yet her ambition unmistakable in her eyes.


    And yet, he mused, she¡¯d never looked more radiant.


    He sipped his wine, murmuring to himself, "Just... the first step?"


    Despite his usual aversion to work, something about this moment set his blood alight.


    Perhaps it was the thrill of serving an employer whose ambitions were as vast as the stage she¡¯d chosen¡ªwhere even her first move...


    ¡ªwas witnessed by the world.

 Chapter 51

    "Inside the luxurious Starlight Manor, let¡¯s explore why it attracts countless upper-class elites."


    "How many business deals were sealed at the Starlight Banquet? Behind the highest-profile banquet in recent years lies a web of interests, with Sheng Quan emerging as the biggest winner."


    "Renowned director from x-country publicly announced that his new film ''Heart of Love'' secured over 70 million in investment at the Starlight Banquet."


    "Huang Yan has confirmed her role in ''Chaos Universe.'' During an interview, she joyfully shared that she met the director at the Starlight Banquet and expressed deep gratitude to Sheng Quan, vowing to work hard this year in hopes of receiving another invitation next year."


    For those attending the banquet, the grand gathering was never about the food.


    Just as Wan Bao, when seeking investment for ''The Path of Life,'' went to great lengths to attend such events¡ªcertainly not for the refreshments.


    Everyone held a glass, weaving through the crowd, toasting and chatting lightly while closing massive deals.


    The guests all agreed: money must flow to generate profit.


    And this historic, invaluable, and exclusive manor was the perfect stage for their ambitions and needs.


    By the end of the banquet, the most influential guests bid farewell to Sheng Quan. When they smiled and said, "We look forward to next year''s invitation," the purpose of the evening had been achieved.


    That night, Sheng Quan collected countless business cards.


    The ?????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????contact details on them weren¡¯t particularly hard to obtain¡ªtheir value lay in the fact that they were handed over personally by their owners.


    Notably, Xu Man and Jiang Zhen also received many cards.


    Perhaps because Jiang Zhen perfectly fit foreign aesthetics¡ªSheng Quan had often seen his international fans praising his "mysterious Eastern charm" online.


    Clearly, many banquet guests shared this sentiment.


    Jiang Zhen not only secured two international project offers but also caught the attention of several luxury brands.


    When Sheng Quan pushed the door open, the film crew was laughing uproariously. Jiang Zhen, seated on the left, wasn¡¯t joining in but wore an amused expression.


    Ever the enthusiast for lively scenes, Sheng Quan perked up. "What¡¯s so funny?"


    "Hahahaha! A little girl just handed Jiang Zhen a love letter and said she wanted to marry him," Xu Man cackled like a goat. "The best part? She¡¯s barely knee-high to him and clung to his leg¡ªhilarious!"


    "Wow!" Sheng Quan laughed, turning to Jiang Zhen. "Your popularity abroad exceeds my expectations. How did you turn her down?"


    While Jiang Zhen had remained composed under Xu Man¡¯s teasing, Sheng Quan¡¯s laughter made him slightly bashful. The impeccably suited man, radiating charm, pursed his lips lightly.


    "I told her to focus on her studies."


    A response perfectly in character for Jiang Zhen. After wrapping up ''The Cultivator,'' he¡¯d spent most of his free time studying.


    At Starlight Entertainment, artists were arguably the most studious in the industry¡ªactors, singers, directors, and screenwriters alike pushed themselves relentlessly.


    Many marveled at Sheng Quan¡¯s keen eye, as every artist under her banner was both talented and driven, with even her employees working tirelessly for her.


    Seemingly withered talents from other companies would bloom into vibrant flowers at Starlight¡ªhow could such success not inspire envy?


    But only those at Starlight knew the truth: it was Sheng Quan who provided the water and nutrients, allowing them to flourish without restraint.


    Take ''The Cultivator'' crew, for instance¡ªtheir schedules were packed solid for the year, and these opportunities stemmed solely from the banquet.


    In terms of loyalty to Sheng Quan, nearly everyone present scored above 80.


    Just as Jiang Zhen¡¯s favorability had long surpassed that mark.


    After months of meticulous planning, Sheng Quan finally reaped monumental rewards.


    The billions in system funds weren¡¯t even the biggest return¡ªthe box office was. In this world, entertainment was a way of life. While she¡¯d sensed it faintly during ''The Path of Life,'' the explosive success of ''The Cultivator'' made it undeniable.


    A society obsessed with entertainment meant far more moviegoers than in her past life.


    To date, ''The Cultivator'' had grossed over 7 billion, with profits still pouring in.


    Though box office shares hadn¡¯t been distributed yet, the system¡¯s rewards had already arrived.


    Most crucially, Xu Man and Jiang Zhen had extended her lifespan to three years.


    What was meant to pressure hosts into completing tasks now barely constrained her.


    Sheng Quan¡¯s first move? Buying property back home. While the lavish Starlight Manor abroad was undeniably comfortable, she preferred it as a vacation retreat.


    Most days, she¡¯d rather be in China.


    Though most box office earnings would fund future investments, Sheng Quan¡ªwho¡¯d once spent every penny as soon as it landed¡ªfinally had financial breathing room.


    Better yet, she¡¯d entered the profit phase. Money flowed out for investments but also streamed back steadily. In short, after over a year, Sheng Quan was no longer strapped for cash.


    And "no longer strapped" meant she could indulge her whims¡ªshopping sprees purely for pleasure.


    Whether others enjoyed luxury, Sheng Quan didn¡¯t know, but she certainly did.


    Before her transmigration, she¡¯d just turned thirty and was doing well among her peers.


    Though reborn at twenty-three, her original early twenties had been a struggle.


    Like most fresh graduates, she¡¯d scrambled for jobs, adapted to post-school life, endured cramped rentals, overtime, and commutes, squeezing fragments of joy from phone screens on packed subways.


    Exhausted daily, crushed by rent, let alone owning a shoebox apartment in the city¡¯s relentless grind¡ªyouthful uncertainty and anxiety had been her constant companions.


    It took years to learn self-love.


    Yet looking back, Sheng Quan felt grateful for that younger self.


    Without those hard lessons and encounters with all walks of life, she might¡¯ve squandered the system¡¯s fortune, trapped in a lifelong scramble to extend her days.


    Now, in this second chance at twenty-three, Sheng Quan lived as if making up for lost time.


    She shopped without glancing at price tags.


    Loved a dress? Bought it instantly. Rows of exquisite shoes filled glass cabinets. Coveted jewelry adorned her neck the same day.


    Sheng Quan cherished everything she had now.


    She was still quite busy.


    Aside from her CEO courses, she had signed up for a slew of other classes¡ªdance, posture, illustration, painting. When she had time, she attended them; when she didn¡¯t, she practiced slowly at home.


    006 couldn¡¯t understand why its host was so joyfully learning all these skills. It thought Sheng Quan was afraid it would disappear:


    ¡¾Host, I won¡¯t disappear. You¡¯ll always be wealthy.¡¿


    ¡¾I know.¡¿ Sheng Quan responded while holding a yoga pose: ¡¾This isn¡¯t painful studying¡ªit¡¯s pursuing my hobbies.¡¿


    These were the hobbies she had longed to pursue at 23 but never had the time for.


    Back then, she could only spare ten minutes each morning for yoga¡ªjust ten pitiful minutes, barely enough to relax her stiff body.


    But now, she could spend a whole hour practicing freely, even hiring a professional yoga instructor for private lessons.


    How exhilarating!


    Occasionally, Sheng Quan would also check in on her subordinates¡¯ lives.


    After a long period of treatment, Jin Jiu had been off medication for a while. That morning, he excitedly sent her a message, sharing his joy with the person who mattered most to him:


    ¡¾Chairman Sheng, the doctor said I¡¯m cured. I¡¯m completely healed!!!¡¿


    The exclamation marks alone showed just how thrilled he was.


    That evening, Jin Jiu arranged to meet his parents.


    Whether he sought strength from the company or not, he chose a cafe? beneath the office building as their meeting spot.


    Jin Jiu¡¯s parents weren¡¯t terrible people. They had raised him and shielded him from online hate during his darkest days¡ªthey just didn¡¯t love him enough.


    Unfortunately, their remarriages coincided with the bleakest period of his life.


    Sheng Quan didn¡¯t know whether the Jin Jiu from the original story had clung to his fans¡¯ love because he couldn¡¯t accept this truth, but now, at least, he seemed to have moved on.


    Jin Jiu¡¯s complexion was rosy now¡ªno longer the gloomy little mushroom he once was. He sat there, not smiling, yet his eyes shimmered with light.


    He naturally ordered drinks and desserts for his parents and asked, ¡°How have you been?¡±


    His parents seemed awkward, exchanging stiff pleasantries like distant relatives¡ªwhich, in a way, they were, given how long it had been since they last met.


    At first, even after their divorce, they had tried to care for the child they hadn¡¯t raised. But after remarrying and having new children, their attention naturally shifted to the younger ones who grew up beside them.


    What little care they had for Jin Jiu gradually faded.


    When he became famous, they merely sent congratulatory texts. Perhaps the greatest love they could offer was not disturbing the child they had left behind.


    Faced with his parents¡¯ uneasy and guilty expressions, Jin Jiu blinked back tears¡ªsomething he still couldn¡¯t fully control, though his therapist assured him it was normal.


    The tears were real, and so was his smile as he said softly:


    ¡°I just wanted to tell you that I¡¯m doing well now. You don¡¯t need to worry about me.¡±


    His parents stammered:


    ¡°Good, good... as long as you¡¯re happy.¡±


    Sheng Quan took a sip of coffee, watching the scene that resembled a meeting between strangers, and remarked to Gu Zhao beside her at the counter:


    ¡°Meeting my parents used to be like that too.¡±


    In her past life, she was the textbook definition of having parents in name only. Blood might be thicker than water, but even biological children needed time to bond with their parents.


    And Sheng Quan, born into divorce and immediate remarriage, never got that chance.


    Gu Zhao also sipped his coffee. ¡°My parents never smiled at me.¡±


    Sheng Quan handed her cup to him. ¡°Then we¡¯re about the same. Cheers to that.¡±


    Gu Zhao paused before lightly clinking his cup against hers.


    ¡°Cheers.¡±


    After a brief silence, he asked, ¡°Aren¡¯t you curious?¡±


    Sheng Quan kept her eyes on Jin Jiu. ¡°About what?¡±


    Gu Zhao: ¡°My family, my parents, why I cut ties with them. Lane must have mentioned something.¡±


    ¡°He did, but I don¡¯t see the point in asking. My gossip radar is usually tuned to entertainment news¡ªlike An Baixing¡¯s voice cracking into a duck-like squawk during practice yesterday. The fact that it spread so fast through the company? That was all me.¡±


    Gu Zhao immediately recalled the message he¡¯d woken up to from Sheng Quan that morning:


    ¡¾HAHAHAHAHAHA did you hear An Baixing¡¯s voice cracked into a duck squawk during practice yesterday??? I have the recording¡ªlisten to this it¡¯s HILARIOUS HAHAHAHA¡¿


    In the past, he would¡¯ve dismissed such trivial gossip as a waste of time.


    Yet somehow, reading that message had made him laugh too.


    Jin Jiu was already saying goodbye to his parents. After so long apart, there wasn¡¯t much left to say.


    The young man stood, walking them out.


    His mother took a few steps before turning back, her eyes slightly red. Hesitating, she murmured:


    ¡°I only learned from the news what you went through back then.¡±


    ¡°We failed you...¡±


    His father also stopped, looking as though he wanted to say something, but in the end, he only hung his head in shame.


    Jin Jiu froze.


    Just as softly, he replied, ¡°It¡¯s okay.¡±


    After watching his parents leave, he turned toward Sheng Quan at the counter.


    She gave him a thumbs-up. ¡°You nailed it!¡±


    Then she nudged Gu Zhao with her elbow.


    With a resigned sigh, Gu Zhao nodded at Jin Jiu.


    That was his version of a thumbs-up.


    The young man, his eyes still faintly red, broke into a radiant smile.


    It¡¯s okay. None of the past matters anymore.


    Because I can sing again. I have a new career, a wonderful boss, great friends, and amazing colleagues.


    And a... whole new life.


    ¡¾Ding! Host has successfully altered the fate trajectory of the sponsored individual by 100%. System upgrading. Awaiting scoring.¡¿


    Before Sheng Quan could react, the system completed its upgrade.


    006: ¡¾Scored full marks. Upgrade successful. Lifespan restriction lifted. Monthly task requirement removed.¡¿


    ¡¾Feedback ratio increased. Maximum: 300%.¡¿

 Chapter 52

    Due to the host''s own wishes, the system feedback and subsequent task funds will now include the host''s career progress as an additional evaluation criterion, alongside the beneficiary''s favorability and career growth.


    ¡¾Ding! Detected host career goal: Develop Starlight Entertainment into a world-class company. Current progress: 7%¡¿


    Sheng Quan: ¡¾Ah, it¡¯s already at 7%? I thought it¡¯d be 5% at most.¡¿


    The sudden system upgrade didn¡¯t surprise her much.


    To be precise, she¡¯d been waiting for the system¡¯s rules to change for a while now.


    It wasn¡¯t hard to guess. Whether it was lifespan or monthly tasks, these rigid rules were clearly designed to make the system-bound host dutifully support beneficiaries like clockwork.


    But admittedly, while such restrictions effectively ensured monthly task completion, they also made it impossible to fully spread one¡¯s wings.


    Take The Cultivator, for example. Filming couldn¡¯t be sped up¡ªproducing a quality movie required at least six months. Yet, to achieve the best results, continuous funding was necessary. During The Cultivator¡¯s production, Sheng Quan had to meticulously earn lifespan points every month.


    But this didn¡¯t make much sense. The system was composed of wish energy, and its goal had always been to "support exceptionally talented individuals," not "restrict the host in every way possible."


    Scattered, small-scale investments were fundamentally at odds with the system¡¯s original purpose.


    Unless, from the start, this was meant to be a screening mechanism.


    Still, despite all her speculation, she hadn¡¯t expected a system scoring feature.


    Sheng Quan was outright amused: ¡¾006, if you¡¯re the one grading me, are you sure you won¡¯t give me special treatment?¡¿


    006 replied with utmost seriousness: ¡¾The system evaluates based on multiple factors to ensure fairness¡ªno backdoor dealings!¡¿


    ¡¾But I¡¯m curious, what¡¯s this ¡®fate line¡¯ thing? This is the first time it¡¯s appeared, right?¡¿ Sheng Quan nodded at Gu Zhao in acknowledgment, holding her coffee as she stepped into the elevator.


    Other employees waiting nearby maintained neutral expressions, but the moment she entered, several couldn¡¯t help murmuring excitedly:


    ¡°Was that Sheng Quan?¡±


    ¡°It was! I¡¯ve seen her a few times. She¡¯s back in the country? The news didn¡¯t mention it.¡±


    ¡°Who¡¯s Sheng Quan? Wait, you don¡¯t know? Haven¡¯t you been following the news lately? She owns this entire building! Starlight Entertainment on the top floor is hers. She¡¯s not a celebrity, but she¡¯s more famous than most!¡±


    Unaware of the chatter, Sheng Quan stood in the private elevator reserved for Starlight Entertainment, watching the floors flash by as she continued:


    ¡¾It¡¯s been a long time since I signed Jin Jiu. Why is his fate line only changing now?¡¿


    ¡¾006 doesn¡¯t know!¡¿ 006 was disarmingly frank: ¡¾I just received a notification: Jin Jiu¡¯s fate line has been altered.¡¿


    ¡¾But 006 is so happy! Host won¡¯t have to worry about lifespan anymore!¡¿


    It cheerfully simulated fireworks in her mind:


    ¡¾Boom! Boom! Congratulations, Host! Now you can really go all out!¡¿


    And Sheng Quan could go all out now.


    But first, she made a call to her mentor:


    ¡°Qin Consultant, the first batch of trainees should be ready by now, right? Can you assign some to me?¡±


    ¡°I told you not to call me ¡®mentor.¡¯ Call me Consultant Qin.¡±


    At the training base, Qin Guofu, dressed in athletic wear with sweat beading on his forehead, looked decades younger than when he¡¯d first arrived in Shanghai. His once-white hair was now dyed black, and his voice boomed with vigor:


    ¡°I was just about to request their official deployment. These brats have been eating and drinking like kings, getting plump and restless. They¡¯ve been begging me to start working.¡±


    He paused, brow furrowing slightly:


    ¡°But why the sudden need for more people? Are you in trouble? I saw the news¡ªyou bought some estate overseas. Did that attract unwanted attention?¡±


    ¡°What¡¯s Jiang Lu doing? Bragging about being some sharpshooter¡ªI¡¯ll have words with him later.¡±


    Sheng Quan glanced up, amused, at Jiang Lu, who was reading across from her and looked up at the sound of his name:


    ¡°Consultant Qin, I¡¯m on speaker.¡±


    ¡°Also, Jiang Lu never bragged. You¡¯re the one who keeps telling me he¡¯s a once-in-a-generation sharpshooter.¡±


    Qin Guofu coughed. ¡°That¡¯s beside the point. How many people do you need?¡±


    ¡°As many as you can spare. I¡¯m sure they¡¯re ready to take over some of my current security details.¡± Her tone was light. ¡°Don¡¯t worry, no one¡¯s targeting me. I¡¯ll just be traveling more from now on.¡±


    She added casually, as if discussing the weather: ¡°My dream is to become the head of a world-class company. At that level, I imagine kidnapping attempts would be inevitable, right?¡±


    Qin Guofu let out a gruff laugh.


    In truth, while Sheng Quan had gained fame both domestically and abroad, they all knew she was far from the world stage.


    The older one got, the clearer it became how nearly impossible such a goal was.


    But the sixty-something man chuckled warmly, like any doting elder encouraging a young dreamer:


    ¡°Then I¡¯ll have to train them harder. These brats will be guarding the CEO of a top-tier global corporation.¡±


    After hanging up, Qin Guofu¡¯s cheerful demeanor vanished, replaced by his usual stern authority.


    When he announced the selection of trainees to protect Sheng Quan, the sun-tanned recruits erupted in excitement.


    ¡°Yes!!¡±


    ¡°We¡¯re protecting CEO Sheng?!¡±


    ¡°Yu Na got assigned to her earlier! She said the benefits are amazing¡ªshe¡¯s already saving up to buy a house!¡±


    Their loyalty to the company and Sheng Quan was undeniable, forged through generous investment in their training and the bright futures she¡¯d shown them.


    ¡ªAnd, of course, the deliberate cultivation by their advisors.


    The first batch of trainees had been recommended by Jiang Lu and Qin Guofu¡ªveterans of varying ages, some as advisors, others as recruits.


    From the second batch onward, referrals came from military superiors, where character and capability were easily vetted. This was the first filter.


    Then came the second, the third, until only the most disciplined remained, ready for the grueling yet well-paid training ahead.


    And this high salary was just the beginning. Once hired, they would earn double, triple, or even more.


    Though they hadn¡¯t officially started working yet, since they had stepped into the security industry, they couldn¡¯t help but inquire about other security companies.


    Then they discovered that, in the entire city of Shanghai, it seemed only their Starlight Security offered the highest pay and invested the most in training their skills.


    A trainee who had been eliminated in the second round once lamented regretfully in the group chat:


    "I only realized how good Starlight¡¯s benefits were after I got eliminated and started looking for other jobs. My old squad leader nearly scolded me to death¡ªhe went through so much trouble to get me this amazing opportunity, and I blew it."


    "I¡¯ve quit drinking now. Can you guys ask the advisor if they¡¯ll give me another chance? I swear I¡¯ll work hard this time. I¡¯ll really give it my all."


    In the end, this regretful trainee never made it back into the company. Even though other advisors felt sympathetic, Qin Guofu, the chief advisor, remained firm in his refusal.


    Before selecting the trainees who would "work for Chairwoman Sheng Quan," he openly explained why he wouldn¡¯t give the eliminated trainee another chance:


    "Starlight Security has a complete training program. Even someone with just average physical fitness could become a competent security guard after six months of training here. But from the very beginning, Chairwoman Sheng Quan made it clear¡ªshe only recruits veterans."


    The retired officer, his sharp eagle-like gaze sweeping over the trainees despite his age, continued:


    "Why? Because she knows how hard it is for us veterans to find work after service. She isn¡¯t a veteran herself, but she respects us, values us. That¡¯s why she reserved this opportunity¡ªwhich could¡¯ve been open to the public¡ªexclusively for us. Do you know what this company represents? Starlight Security! A green channel created solely for veterans."


    The trainees listened quietly, their hearts in full agreement.


    Qin Guofu laid it out plainly:


    "This green channel exists because of Chairwoman Sheng Quan¡¯s high regard for soldiers. You are the first to benefit from it. If you fail¡ªif you don¡¯t uphold the honor of a soldier¡ªyou¡¯ll be shutting the door for those who come after you!"


    "Go ahead and ask around. Is there any other security company in the country that hires only veterans, offers such high pay, brings in top-tier instructors from various fields, gives year-end bonuses, and even provides pensions? Does Chairwoman Sheng Quan have so much money she doesn¡¯t know where to spend it? No! She just wants you¡ªthe men and women who once defended this country¡ªto live well, to earn a good living with your own skills! And not just earn, but earn big!"


    By this point, the trainees¡¯ emotions were fully roused.


    Qin Guofu raised his voice:


    "Tell me, after all Chairwoman Sheng Quan has done for us, after all the care she¡¯s shown¡ªcan we let her down?"


    The trainees, their robust figures bronzed by the sun, roared back in unison:


    "NO!!!!"


    "Faced with the privilege Chairwoman Sheng Quan has given us, with this green channel she built, we must work even harder! We must prove that her faith in us isn¡¯t misplaced¡ªthat we deserve this path! Am I right?!"


    "YES!!!!"


    "Finally, protecting Chairwoman Sheng Quan and the company is protecting yourselves. I hope you all understand that."


    From her vantage point on the second floor, Sheng Quan listened to Qin Guofu¡¯s impassioned speech and remarked, "...No wonder you said their loyalty wouldn¡¯t be a problem, Jiang Lu."


    Advisor Qin really knew how to stir emotions. Even she, who had never served, felt her blood boiling.


    With just a few words, he had shifted the discussion from "Is the screening process too harsh?" to "One person¡¯s mistake affects how others see the entire group."


    After this, even if a trainee were tempted to break the rules, the others would stop them¡ªbecause this was about "everyone¡¯s honor."


    Jiang Lu didn¡¯t seem surprised. A faint smile tugged at his lips, his eyes carrying a trace of nostalgia:


    "He used to train us the same way. Sometimes he was harsh, but I knew it was for our good. He cared deeply about every soldier under his command."


    Sheng Quan nodded in agreement.


    "Are his family members still against him working in Shanghai?"


    At this, Jiang Lu¡¯s smile deepened slightly:


    "They¡¯ve argued over the phone many times. Of the three siblings, the two sisters managed to get leave. After visiting, they stopped trying to persuade him. The eldest brother works in a classified unit¡ªapparently, it took him a lot of effort to get time off. He should be arriving in the next couple of days."


    Indeed, the eldest Qin brother was on his way.


    When they first learned that Qin Guofu had gone to work in Shanghai, his children thought their father had lost his mind!


    A man in his sixties, an age when he should be enjoying retirement¡ªwhat was he doing taking on a physically demanding job as a security advisor? What if he got hurt? What if he overworked himself?


    Their mother¡¯s passing had been a heavy blow to the entire Qin family, but the children knew their father had taken it the hardest. They had feared he might do something drastic and had rushed to send a grandchild to keep him company.


    But as soon as their daughter left for university, their elderly father, now without companionship, went back to work. When the eldest Qin brother heard this absurd news, he nearly choked.


    Tied up with a mission and unable to take leave, he could only hope his sisters would handle it.


    But after the two sisters visited Shanghai and returned, they told him:


    "Bro, honestly, Dad¡¯s doing really well there. The benefits are amazing, and he loves it. Just let him stay."


    For a moment, the eldest Qin brother wondered if he was hallucinating.


    If not for his firm belief in materialism, he might¡¯ve asked his sisters, "Have you two been cursed or something?!"


    A man in his sixties, even if he could take on two men at once, working alone in Shanghai¡ªa city where he had no relatives or friends¡ªand they thought it was fine?!


    Knowing how persuasive their father could be, the eldest Qin brother was convinced his sisters had been sweet-talked. Never mind that both were nearly forty¡ªhe held firm to this belief.


    And ?????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????then, he arrived at the Starlight Security training base.


    Before even stepping inside, he was stunned by the imposing grandeur of the entrance gate.


    "This gate..." Must¡¯ve cost a fortune, right?


    The young employee guiding him smiled and explained:


    "Your father designed it himself. Fully password-protected. See the camera above? It¡¯s part of an independent security system. Every person entering or exiting has their own unique password and facial recognition clearance."


    The eldest Qin brother: "..."


    The level of security here was almost on par with his own classified workplace.


    He asked, "...Isn¡¯t this just a training base? Why the... extreme security?"


    "Because we¡¯re a security company. It¡¯s only right that our own security measures are top-notch."


    After going through a set of procedures with the young staff member, the gate opened, revealing a scene completely different from what "Brother Qin" had imagined¡ªno dirt roads or scattered fitness equipment in sight. Instead, the ground was impeccably clean, with rows of beautiful glass buildings.


    Men and women wearing Starlight Security training uniforms walked past, chatting and laughing:


    "What are you eating today?"


    "Muscle gain meal. I want to train harder. I didn¡¯t make it as Chairman Sheng¡¯s bodyguard this time, but maybe next time."


    "I¡¯ll stick to the healthy meal. The nutritionist says I¡¯m maintaining my condition well."


    Brother Qin: "..."


    He couldn¡¯t help but ask again, "You even have nutritionists here?"


    "Yes, to better protect our clients, the trainees¡¯ own health is equally important."


    Seeing Brother Qin¡¯s hesitant expression, the young staff member kindly added,


    "Please rest assured, the Chief Consultant also follows meals planned by the nutritionist. Our company has professional health managers, rehabilitation therapists, and psychologists. The Chief Consultant even has two dedicated assistants serving him, so there¡¯s no need to worry about his well-being."


    Brother Qin: "..."


    He only had one assistant himself.


    Wait, no¡ªeven if daily health was covered, what about emergencies? This was the suburbs. What if someone fell seriously ill and couldn¡¯t be rushed to the hospital in time?


    As he pondered this, they arrived in front of a large building. The young staff member introduced,


    "This is our training base¡¯s medical clinic. The doctors here are all professionals. That large vehicle parked outside is equipped with ambulance-grade medical equipment. Since our base is in the suburbs, waiting for an ambulance to arrive and transport a patient might take too long. That¡¯s why the boss prepared these."


    Brother Qin peered through the glass at the professional medical equipment inside the clinic: "..."


    Next, they passed by a library.


    Though he couldn¡¯t fathom why a bodyguard training base would have a library, he knew his father loved reading. Without a doubt, his father would adore this place.


    They continued walking, passing a movie room, a small karaoke lounge, a laundry room, a barbershop, and even a dog kennel tucked away in the most remote corner.


    Brother Qin: "..."


    His father loved dogs.


    With every step, his resolve wavered further. Finally, after circling the entire training base, he saw his father.


    His hair was black again, his clothes neatly pressed, and his haircut fresh, making him look more spirited than ever. The man who had been despondent since his wife¡¯s passing was now smiling as he chatted with Jiang Lu and a young woman.


    He was beaming, his face brimming with pride and joy¡ªjust like the father Brother Qin remembered from his youth.


    Back then, his father had always been proud. He would lift each of his children high in the air, laughing as he played with them, and take them shopping with their mother.


    But gradually, as they grew older, his father¡¯s straight posture had hunched, his strong arms had thinned, his thick black hair had turned gray, and the light in his eyes had dimmed.


    Now, though, he seemed to have returned to those days¡ªthe father who once had dreams and looked forward to each new day.


    Brother Qin¡¯s nose stung.


    He stared blankly, his lips parting and closing before finally calling out, "Dad..."


    The elderly man in front of him spun around, his wrinkled face lighting up with delight.


    "Xingbang! You¡¯re here! That¡¯s wonderful!"


    In Brother Qin¡¯s memories, such warmth between him and his father had become rare as he grew older.


    That joyful tone only deepened his guilt and sorrow. His father had truly aged. He must have missed him terribly¡ªotherwise, he could have just sent photos of the base.


    This... was his way of asking him to visit.


    Watching his sixty-something-year-old father stride toward him with youthful vigor, Brother Qin spread his arms, his eyes reddening as he prepared for this long-awaited embrace:


    "Dad, I¡ª Huh? Wait, Dad, easy! Easy!"


    Brother Qin was utterly bewildered as his father dragged him over to Sheng Quan.


    Still dazed, he watched his father beam with paternal pride and say cheerfully,


    "Chairman Sheng, this is my son, Qin Xingbang. Didn¡¯t you say you wanted to invest in some domestic special effects company? Ask him! He knows all about it! As long as it doesn¡¯t involve classified information, he can help! And he¡¯s got plenty of classmates who know this stuff too!"


    "Though these confidential personnel can take side jobs, they need approval from their unit, and the process takes a while. Right, Xingbang? That¡¯s the rule, isn¡¯t it?"


    Still in a daze, Brother Qin nodded blankly. "Yeah, that¡¯s the rule. They usually approve it, but it takes time. Dad, are you trying to get me a job...?"


    "No problem, I¡¯ve got it figured out."


    Just as he answered, he heard his dear old father enthusiastically propose a genius solution:


    "Side jobs cost money."


    "If you don¡¯t charge anything, it¡¯s fine!"

 Chapter 53

    Regarding Qin Guofu''s attempt to "sell" his son, Sheng Quan found it both amusing and exasperating.


    After settling into the base''s reception room, she had to repeatedly explain:


    "I''m looking for a full-time general manager, and Elder Brother Qin is already quite busy with his own work. He wouldn¡¯t have much time to spare."


    Only then did the old man reluctantly give up on promoting his son:


    "Well, Director Sheng, you can always consult him if you have questions. He dabbled in special effects back in the day¡ªeven wanted to start a business with his classmates in college."


    Sheng Quan immediately straightened up with respect: "Elder Brother Qin was doing this back in college? That early?"


    Though still somewhat unclear about the situation, when the clearly admired young woman looked at him with such admiration, Elder Brother Qin couldn¡¯t help but sit a little taller:


    "Ahem, that was almost twenty years ago. It was just small-scale back then, and it never took off. But if you''re thinking of starting a special effects company, the domestic market is tough.


    In recent years, quite a few effects companies have gone bankrupt¡ªeven Mirage, once the most famous in the country, declared bankruptcy two years ago. I¡¯d advise you to think carefully."


    From these few sentences alone, it was clear he had some understanding of the domestic special effects industry. Even though Sheng Quan had already done her research and had her company assess the risks, she still listened attentively.


    The summary was this: despite the global entertainment boom, which should have elevated the importance of special effects companies, the domestic environment for growth in this field was riddled with obstacles.


    "I have several friends working in special effects. Their skills are advanced enough to achieve incredibly detailed results, but the deadlines clients give them are often impossible, even with overtime."


    As he spoke, Elder Brother Qin¡¯s expression turned helpless, clearly having heard plenty of complaints from his friends:


    "Projects that should take a year or more get compressed into three months¡ªsometimes two. And they can¡¯t refuse the work. The domestic film industry prioritizes speed above all else. If they don¡¯t take the job, they don¡¯t eat."


    "Without time to refine the details, the results inevitably fall short of what could be achieved with meticulous care. And even when they deliver on time, clients might still withhold the final payment."


    In short: "Starting a special effects company requires massive upfront investment in equipment and labor. Whether domestic or international, most of these companies operate at a loss until they build a reputation. And in China, even established companies often struggle to stay afloat."


    This aligned with Sheng Quan¡¯s earlier findings. In her past life, she hadn¡¯t paid much attention to special effects companies, but she imagined the situation was similar¡ªafter all, the entertainment industry back then also prioritized speed over quality.


    As long as a project had star power, even mediocre work could yield impressive returns.


    This was terrible for special effects companies, which thrived on precision, not haste. They might possess top-tier skills, but survival forced them to deliver only half their potential.


    And for an industry requiring heavy investment in equipment and manpower, this vicious cycle meant only one outcome for most: bankruptcy¡ªunless they had a money tree at home.


    Though Sheng Quan assured him she was prepared for these challenges, Elder Brother Qin remained skeptical.


    He didn¡¯t follow entertainment news much. His days were packed, and his downtime was spent calling friends and family, reading, or dining with colleagues.


    In fact, the forty-year-old didn¡¯t even have a Weibo account.


    So he didn¡¯t recognize Sheng Quan. The same Elder Brother Qin who, in his early twenties, had been brimming with confidence about building a world-renowned special effects company now saw the domestic industry as a money-devouring wasteland.


    He wasn¡¯t one to meddle, but since this was his father¡¯s employer¡ªand they clearly got along well¡ªhe felt obliged to warn her, even after she remained undeterred:


    "Unless you¡¯re exceptionally wealthy, I really wouldn¡¯t recommend investing in this industry."


    Beside them, Old Man Qin, who had been listening with great interest, pulled out his phone and showed his bank balance alert:


    "You¡¯ve been asking about my salary, and I never bothered to tell you. Here, take a look¡ªthis is what I earn every month."


    Elder Brother Qin: "..."


    Putting his phone away, the old man added leisurely:


    "The reason I asked you to come these past few days is because she recently went to Country A and bought an estate there."


    "Nine billion. In RMB."


    Elder Brother Qin: "..."


    Time seemed to freeze.


    Three seconds later, he slowly pulled out his phone and opened his contacts: "Didn¡¯t you say you needed recommendations for talent in this field?"


    "I know a few friends... who might be open to switching jobs."


    "Seriously? The base salary is really that high? And the bonuses?"


    Elder Brother Qin¡¯s friends were no longer young. Many had families and mortgages, so they weren¡¯t about to quit their jobs based on a phone call.


    They weren¡¯t worried about the salary or benefits being exaggerated¡ªwhat concerned them was whether this new company would follow the same trajectory as other domestic effects firms: producing a few stunning works before fading into obscurity.


    Until they heard one name:


    "Tan Hongguang from Mirage? Why reach out to him?"


    Elder Brother Qin watched the lively "sparring arena" before him:


    "Because the new company¡¯s chairwoman wants him as the general manager."


    At present, Tan Hongguang was virtually unknown. If you stopped a hundred people on the street and asked if they¡¯d heard of him, you¡¯d be lucky to get one or two positive responses.


    But if you asked those same people about blockbuster hits like Red Carp or Stars Sink into the Sea, many would recognize them.


    The dazzling, intricate effects in those films were produced by Tan Hongguang¡¯s Mirage Studios¡ªand their box office success owed much to his team¡¯s work.


    Yet two years ago, while Stars Sink into the Sea raked in profits, Mirage quietly went bankrupt.


    Truthfully, Sheng Quan had been planning to start a special effects company for a long time.


    So long that she¡¯d been mulling it over when she parked her car by Yan Hui¡¯s food stall.


    She¡¯d thought about it while filming The Cultivator.


    And even when a renowned foreign effects company handed her their business card in Country A, smiling as they said, "Feel free to contact us for future projects," the idea still simmered in her mind.


    After securing Tan Hongguang¡¯s contact details, Sheng Quan raised her teacup to Elder Brother Qin with a smile.


    This was why connections mattered. She¡¯d searched for ages without finding Tan Hongguang, who had vanished after his company¡¯s collapse. Yet Elder Brother Qin located him in just two days.


    The trail had led through his friends, their former colleagues, an old classmate, and finally to Tan Hongguang¡¯s sister.


    Just like the trainees at Starlight Security, gossip in any industry traveled fast¡ªespecially among those still working in it.


    Sheng Quan would bet that within the special effects industry, countless people had wondered, "What happened to Tan Hongguang afterward?" And the answer was downright bizarre¡ªhe went into seclusion.


    Yes, in the modern era, he chose seclusion.


    He found a remote, long-abandoned mountain cottage and lived there alone for two years. Of course, it wasn¡¯t some primitive, wild existence¡ªotherwise, Sheng Quan wouldn¡¯t have been able to track him down through so many intermediaries.


    That said, it wasn¡¯t easy. The original text mentioned Tan Hongguang¡¯s seclusion, but which mountain? What was his phone number? Who were his family members? None of these details were provided in the book.


    "The biggest challenge for special effects companies is the high cost. It¡¯s rare to find film projects willing to give effects teams the time they need to perfect their work. Even if the results are outstanding, most productions prioritize speed over quality."


    The call with Tan Hongguang wasn¡¯t long¡ªin fact, it was surprisingly brief:


    "However, Starlight Entertainment already has a mature film production team. We¡¯ll be continuously producing various projects moving forward. And whether these projects hire special effects teams¡ªand how much time they¡¯re given¡ªis entirely up to me."


    This was what Sheng Quan had been working toward during her "planning" phase.


    Turning "unsuitable" into "suitable."


    At the time, she couldn¡¯t be 100% certain the system would change its rules, but as the saying goes, preparation never hurts. Even borrowing arrows with straw boats required extensive groundwork.


    And now, the "east wind" had finally arrived.


    At first, Tan Hongguang was resistant:


    "Director Sheng, judging by your voice, you¡¯re quite young. While you may own a company, special effects firms are different from ordinary businesses. Perhaps you should familiarize yourself with the industry first."


    "I already have. But Mr. Tan, before you give me an answer, maybe you should familiarize yourself with me."


    After hanging up, Sheng Quan cringed at her own words: "That sounded so pretentious."


    Then she grinned. "But being pretentious feels great."


    Jiang Lu, standing nearby, remarked, "It was just the truth."


    And it was the truth. Within a year, Sheng Quan had become a prominent name in the country.


    Tan Hongguang¡¯s sister and brother-in-law waited eagerly nearby. Seeing their brother lost in thought after the call, they grew impatient:


    "Brother, what¡¯s there to hesitate about? This is Sheng Quan we¡¯re talking about."


    "Sheng Quan..." Tan Hongguang, who had been offline and disconnected from the world for two years, turned to them. "Is she very wealthy?"


    Two years ago, he hadn¡¯t even heard her name.


    "More than wealthy¡ªshe¡¯s practically sitting on a gold mine."


    Tan¡¯s sister pulled up a Baidu search for Sheng Quan and showed him the endless list of results.


    [How Many Celebrities and Tycoons Gathered at Sheng Quan¡¯s Starlight Banquet?]


    [Young Female Tycoon Spends 9 Billion to Acquire A-Country¡¯s Jones Manor]


    [Sheng Quan Revealed as Investor Behind The Cultivator]


    [Donates 100 Million to Charity¡ªWhat Really Happened at The Voice of You?]


    [The New Owner of Huaxia Mansion¡ªA 23-Year-Old Woman]


    Tan Hongguang: "...It seems a lot has happened in two years."


    He scrolled through each article one by one, finally pausing on an interview.


    It was taken after The Cultivator¡¯s release, during the promotional tour. Typically, investors rarely appear in such interviews, but Sheng Quan¡ªalready something of a public figure¡ªwas no ordinary investor.


    On screen, the strikingly beautiful young woman, radiant under the lights, smiled as she answered:


    "Yes, The Cultivator¡¯s special effects were outsourced to a foreign company. That¡¯s an unfortunate reality. What¡¯s even more unfortunate is that many of the artists at that renowned firm are actually Chinese."


    Despite her words, her expression remained cheerful:


    "But I believe this won¡¯t always be the case. Who knows? Maybe one day, we¡¯ll have world-famous special effects companies right here at home."


    Tan Hongguang watched the clip frame by frame, replaying it over and over.


    His sister, ever the concerned sibling, whispered to her husband:


    "Oh no, has my brother lost it? Should I drag him to a psychiatrist?"


    Her husband, however, understood perfectly. He worked in the same industry, and Tan Hongguang had always been his idol.


    Mirage Studios had lasted seven years¡ªseven years of grueling battles.


    Even now, Tan Hongguang¡¯s temples were streaked with white. Looking at him, no one would guess he wasn¡¯t even forty. Running a quality-driven special effects company was brutally hard because few production teams were willing to pay for their work.


    No matter how talented they were.


    Mirage had survived by taking on foreign film contracts. When Stars Sink Into the Sea approached them, the producers had been effusive in their praise. The entire studio dropped all other projects and worked tirelessly for over half a year to deliver.


    Stars Sink Into the Sea did become a blockbuster, raking in massive box office returns. But during interviews, the production team never once mentioned Mirage¡ªand worse, they shamelessly withheld the final payment.


    Late payments were common in the domestic special effects industry, and Mirage had endured plenty. But this time, it wasn¡¯t just frustrating¡ªit was soul-crushing.


    Every member of Mirage could be called a "dreamer." Otherwise, they could¡¯ve stuck to outsourcing or joined foreign studios like their peers.


    But dreams don¡¯t feed people. Even the most passionate hearts grow cold after too many disappointments.


    When Mirage disbanded, it felt like the death of a collective dream.


    No one raged. They just packed up their belongings in silence, bid each other farewell, and walked away. Seven years, and in the end¡ªnothing to show for it.


    Failures. The word branded itself onto their hearts.


    And now, Sheng Quan¡ªwhose wealth was evident from the headlines¡ªwas inviting him, a failure, to be the general manager of a new company.


    Tan Hongguang didn¡¯t sleep that night.


    He rewatched the interview endlessly, then watched The Path of Life and The Cultivator in full.


    Sheng Quan wanted him to lead this new venture. Did he want to go?


    Honestly? Yes. Desperately.


    But ?????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????the first thing that surged up was self-doubt: Why would she choose me?


    Seven years of exhaustion had crushed the once-promising prodigy.


    He didn¡¯t even know if he could stand back up.


    And having lived through it, Tan Hongguang knew all too well¡ªthe first year of a new company would be pure loss. Back then, they¡¯d survived because Mirage wasn¡¯t his solo project; it was a team built on shared dreams.


    But with standard salaries factored in, the financial backing for this new company would have to be substantial.


    It would require a massive upfront investment. And him¡ªcould he really steer this ship?


    Meanwhile, in Shanghai...


    Sheng Quan lounged leisurely on her balcony recliner. From her vantage point, she could see the security guards patrolling the garden below.


    No wonder he was selected as a top-tier professional¡ªhis sense of security is off the charts.


    System 006 expressed doubts about the host''s choice of Tan Hongguang. It wasn¡¯t questioning his character or abilities; the concern was:


    [According to system analysis, Tan Hongguang is currently in a state of extreme self-doubt. He may not agree to the host''s proposal.]


    [He will agree.] Sheng Quan picked up her tablet, ready to catch up on some comics: [Just like how Yan Hui once traveled thousands of miles by train to attend the audition.]


    [Once Tan Hongguang comes, others will follow him.]


    There¡¯s a reason why someone is so highly regarded by so many.


    What makes a true talent is their ability to push aside inner pain and struggles, relentlessly striving for growth even in the darkest of times.


    In the original story, didn¡¯t he make a triumphant comeback after three years of silence? Everything was finally looking up¡ªuntil overwork took him down... So really, can anyone blame her for cursing that garbage author so fiercely?!


    Five hours later, Sheng Quan received a text from Tan Hongguang:


    [Do you have time for a detailed discussion?]


    Having just emerged from the sea of knowledge, Chairwoman Sheng closed the dense, mind-bending business book and flashed a bright smile:


    [Here he comes¡ªthe foundation of our empire.]


    A brilliant film might not spread globally overnight.


    But an outstanding special effects production company? That¡¯s something the entire world of cinema will take notice of.

 Chapter 54

    When Tan Hongguang flew to the Demon City, it already meant he had made his choice.


    Sheng Quan wasn¡¯t surprised by his refined, middle-aged appearance. She had seen his interview videos before. Perhaps because this world was obsessed with entertainment, most people took care of their looks.


    Whether men or women, everyone paid attention to maintaining their appearance¡ªeven someone like Tan Hongguang, who worked in IT, had a sharp sense of style. Right now, he was wearing a black double-breasted overcoat with a scarf, looking tall and poised.


    He wasn¡¯t drop-dead gorgeous, but his presence was undeniably pleasant.


    Sheng Quan¡¯s gaze flickered upward for a second before she quickly looked away.


    How bizarre.


    Gu Zhao having a full head of hair was one thing¡ªafter all, he kept a healthy sleep schedule. But Tan Hongguang worked in an industry that demanded constant late nights, yet his hair was still thick and lush.


    Though he had avoided baldness, he hadn¡¯t escaped gray hairs.


    Strangely enough, his scholarly, refined face paired with those streaks of silver in his dark hair gave off an oddly fashionable vibe.


    It was a small but pleasant surprise. After all, having a clean-cut, handsome middle-aged man as a subordinate was far better than a sloppy one.


    Especially since Tan Hongguang dove straight into work the moment he landed.


    Perhaps all exceptional people shared one trait¡ªthey never wasted energy on hesitation. Once they set a goal, they poured everything into it without looking back.


    When faced with the offer Sheng Quan gave him¡ªfar exceeding industry standards¡ªhe only asked one question: ¡°Can I have a reason?¡±


    ¡°I¡¯ve reviewed all of Mirage¡¯s records.¡±


    His future employer, young and smiling, extended her hand to him.


    ¡°You¡¯ve already stumbled into every pitfall this industry has to offer, haven¡¯t you? I think if I give you enough funding, you¡¯ll return it to me with substantial profits.¡±


    After Mirage collapsed, Tan Hongguang had heard countless opinions.


    Even competitors rarely spoke ill of it. In an industry with no clear path forward, facing Tan Hongguang¡ªnow a failure¡ªpeople did their best to console him.


    Anyone could see how much effort he had poured into Mirage, how he had kept it alive for seven years before its inevitable collapse.


    ¡°It¡¯s a shame, but the outcome was inevitable. Just accept it.¡±


    ¡°You did your best. It¡¯s not your fault.¡±


    ¡°Everyone can see how much heart you put into it, Old Tan. This isn¡¯t on you.¡±


    No one blamed him. Yet his heart remained heavy.


    For the first time, someone gave him a different response.


    No consolation, no sympathy. She didn¡¯t even praise him for holding on for seven years like others had.


    Instead, Sheng Quan looked at him with expectation and said, ¡°You¡¯ve already had one experience. You failed, but you¡¯ve seen every factor that led to that failure.¡±


    ¡°So, let¡¯s try again.¡±


    Tan Hongguang stared blankly for a moment before lifting his gaze. Looking at the smiling young woman before him, the gloom that had long clouded his expression slowly gave way to a smile of his own.


    He reached out and shook Sheng Quan¡¯s hand.


    ¡°Alright.¡±


    In that moment, his smile carried the same bold confidence of his youth.


    ¡°Let¡¯s... try again.¡±


    Yu Miao had struggled hard to snag a ticket to the Ten Great Immortal Palaces.


    And she meant struggled.


    The Ten Great Immortal Palaces were already popular, but after The Cultivator hit theaters, their fame exploded globally. Domestic moviegoers and xianxia fans were already fighting for tickets¡ªthen the film¡¯s international release brought in hordes of foreign fans.


    Since The Cultivator¡¯s breathtaking landscapes were all real-life locations, they also attracted swarms of tourists from abroad. Most of them had seen the movie¡ªmaybe they weren¡¯t die-hard fans, but as the saying went:


    ¡°Since we¡¯re here...¡±


    The fair-skinned foreign tourist ahead of Yu Miao in line was chatting with his Chinese friend in heavily accented Mandarin: ¡°Of course we have to see it. Heard it¡¯s... very impressive.¡±


    Impressive it was¡ªbut the tickets were a nightmare to get.


    With the influx of foreign visitors, securing a spot had become even harder. The Cultivator had single-handedly introduced the world to Chinese xianxia, and the exposure was massive. Even people who hadn¡¯t seen the film could quote its iconic lines.


    Domestic fans took it in stride, but apparently, some foreign fans had even started keeping pet turtles after watching¡ªsince turtle-shaped yaoxiu (demon cultivators) in the movie were universally beloved.


    Fans worldwide reacted the same way to a beloved work: rewatching it endlessly, scouring the internet for behind-the-scenes details, speculating about sequels, dissecting actor interviews.


    Merchandise? Instant buy. Then came the deep dives into hidden details.


    Oh! This scene actually foreshadowed that plot twist!


    Look, in this shot, XXX is rolling their eyes in the background¡ªsuch a subtle touch, LOL!


    The creative ones wrote fanfiction, the artists drew fan art, the editors made AMVs, and musicians composed fan songs. And after all that?


    Of course, they had to visit the filming locations!


    No matter the country, the allure of stepping into the world of a favorite film was irresistible.


    So, the Ten Great Immortal Palaces being booked solid was no surprise.


    To ?????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????make matters worse, the Palaces had a visitor cap to ensure everyone could enjoy the sights without being packed like sardines in front of the stunning architecture.


    Which meant tickets were even harder to get!!


    Yu Miao had no idea how long she¡¯d been trying before finally scoring one. Sure, people said once the hype died down, tickets would be easy to grab.


    But she didn¡¯t want to wait¡ªshe wanted to see it now!


    As she stood in line, aside from the foreign guy ahead of her (whose Mandarin had a distinct northeastern twang, probably picked up from a Dongbei friend), a quick glance behind revealed at least twenty more foreign tourists.


    Unable to resist, she pulled out her phone to share the moment with her group chat.


    Her friends replied instantly.


    [AHHHHH! SO JEALOUS!! I heard Wednesdays are the easiest for tickets, but us working folks can¡¯t skip shifts to go T_T]


    [No surprise there. You seen the TikToks? The Palaces are swarmed with foreigners¡ªsome flew for hours just to see them. There was one guy who burst into tears in front of the Dragon Pillar, and even the locals were stunned.]


    [If I went, I¡¯d cry too! They say the dragon looks real, and it¡¯s massive¡ªjust imagining the sheer awe of seeing it in person makes me emotional!!!]


    [Know why tickets keep getting harder to get? Because these tourists go home and rave about it online!! I just saw a compilation of foreigner reactions, and the likes were insane.]


    ¡¾No wonder!! I was wondering why there are more and more foreign tourists. Ahhh, when is the off-season for the Ten Great Immortal Palaces? I really want to go inside and see!! Yu Miao, remember to take lots of photos and share them in the group!!¡¿


    Yu Miao watched as her group chat friends wailed with envy and jealousy. Her originally calm mood while waiting in line suddenly felt like chugging an ice-cold soda on a scorching summer day.


    It was absolutely exhilarating!!!


    This must be the joy of friendship, bahahahaha!


    The line moved quickly, and before she knew it, Yu Miao had passed through the ticket checkpoint.


    Then, she got stuck at the entrance.


    A staff member, clearly used to this, shouted through a megaphone:


    "Keep moving forward! Don¡¯t block the people behind you! Hey, tall guy up front¡ªkeep going! Move! Hurry up, don¡¯t stand there!"


    Yu Miao nearly burst out laughing at the accent. Surprisingly, the foreign man with equally clumsy Mandarin seemed to understand and quickly stepped aside, rushing forward.


    With the path cleared, she finally entered¡ªonly to freeze in awe at the sight before her.


    Now she understood why so many visitors had stopped in their tracks earlier.


    The sheer grandeur of the scene was so otherworldly, so unimaginably vast, that anyone would instinctively be stunned into stillness.


    She muttered under her breath, "Holy moly!"


    "Calling for your mom won¡¯t help you stand here!" The staff member gestured impatiently. "Move inside! Don¡¯t block the way, hurry up!"


    Like the foreign man before her, Yu Miao turned back in a daze, nodded hastily, and then found her gaze irresistibly drawn back to the spectacle ahead.


    She walked forward mechanically, her soul seemingly sucked away, unable to tear her eyes from the unbelievably lifelike "creatures" and colossal structures.


    It took her several minutes to barely compose herself¡ªand then she started snapping photos like crazy.


    This was mind-blowing!!!


    She cursed her limited vocabulary¡ªthere were no words to describe what she was seeing!!!


    While furiously typing praises about the Ten Great Immortal Palaces in the group chat, Yu Miao suddenly noticed a peculiar group of people near the coiled dragon pillar up ahead.


    They seemed to be filming a video.


    A man and a woman leaned against the pillar at first, but when the dragon¡¯s head slowly descended, they panicked and bolted, glancing back as they ran.


    Other tourists noticed and chuckled, spotting the camera crew but dismissing it as no big deal.


    The Ten Great Immortal Palaces were a hotspot, after all¡ªplenty of influencers came to shoot content and ride the trend. As long as they didn¡¯t go overboard, the management usually ignored them.


    Yu Miao thought nothing more of it and soon forgot the scene, diving back into her exploration of the palaces. The only regret? Her phone could never capture the true grandeur of the experience.


    Take her, for example. She¡¯d watched videos beforehand and been impressed, but seeing it in person was a whole different level of awe.


    It was like the first time she¡¯d seen a beluga whale¡ªno video or photo could ever replicate the thrill of standing before such a magnificent creature.


    Yu Miao raved about the Ten Great Immortal Palaces and, like rewatching a favorite movie, immediately started planning her next ticket hunt.


    Then, she stumbled upon a video.


    The familiar scene and high engagement made her click.


    The footage showed the same couple she¡¯d seen at the palaces, sitting beneath the coiled dragon pillar.


    So they really were influencers? And with this many likes?


    Just as Yu Miao was about to scroll past, the dragon in the video slowly descended, its pupils shifting until its gaze locked onto the pair.


    She frowned. "Wait, when I visited, did the dragon¡¯s eyes look this real?"


    The next second, with an earth-shaking roar, chains¡ªeach link taller than a person¡ªcrashed to the ground, cracking the stone beneath.


    The once-bound dragon surged into the sky, its scales glinting unnervingly lifelike as it soared overhead, suddenly alive and terrifyingly majestic.


    The couple screamed and fled, but the dragon¡¯s massive form gave chase, its movements reducing towering structures to rubble. Tiny fairies in the sky frantically sounded alarms.


    When Yu Miao had visited, those fairies could fly, but they hadn¡¯t been nearly this animated.


    Then, as screams echoed and distant figures¡ªcultivators on swords¡ªstreaked toward the chaos, the screen cut to black.


    Two lines of text appeared:


    ¡¾Legendary creatures may revive at random~¡¿


    ¡¾Ten Great Immortal Palaces: Enter at your own risk¡¿


    Yu Miao blinked, dazed, as if she¡¯d just watched a blockbuster movie.


    What... was this?


    Special effects?!


    She¡¯d seen those people filming in person¡ªsince when did domestic short videos have CGI this insane?!


    This was just...


    Too. Freaking. Cool!!!

 Chapter 55

    Yu Miao had watched The Cultivator twice before, so she was naturally familiar with all the special effects scenes. Back in the cinema, she had been utterly awestruck by them.


    But this short video was different from The Cultivator. She couldn¡¯t quite put her finger on why at first.


    Maybe it was because she had just visited the Ten Great Immortal Palaces.


    Maybe it was because the people in the video were dressed in modern clothing¡ªa detail so meticulously crafted that it felt almost too polished for a short video¡ªgiving her the illusion that the mythical creatures and wonders of the Ten Great Immortal Palaces had truly come to life.


    Even though she knew it wasn¡¯t real, she couldn¡¯t help but marvel at the visuals, fantasizing about how thrilling it would be if it were.


    What do you do after stumbling upon a beautifully crafted, technically impressive video?


    Of course, you click into the creator¡¯s profile to see if there are more videos like it.


    The bio listed the company name as Tianying and noted that it was a subsidiary of Starlight Entertainment.


    Starlight Entertainment...


    Yu Miao felt the name was vaguely familiar. A quick search reminded her¡ªwasn¡¯t this the company founded by Sheng Quan? The Starlight Manor she¡¯d heard about in gossip circles probably took its name from Starlight Entertainment.


    A surge of pleasant surprise washed over her. Though she was only a casual fan of Sheng Quan, the thought that "the people associated with someone I follow are truly exceptional" added an extra layer of appreciation.


    Eagerly, she hit the follow button and began watching the handful of videos available.


    There were only five in total. The first four were straightforward introductions to the company¡¯s services, packed with stiff, uninspired ad copy that desperately tried to convey their team¡¯s professionalism through words alone.


    Had she come across these videos before seeing the fifth one, Yu Miao would¡¯ve scrolled past without a second thought. Who promotes themselves like this? No tangible proof of skill, just dry, self-praising monologues.


    But now, after witnessing that mind-blowing special effects showcase, her reaction was: Do you even know how to advertise? No one¡¯s going to hire you like this!


    Even as a college student who hadn¡¯t yet entered the workforce, she knew this wasn¡¯t how advertising worked. Though she¡¯d only just followed them, Yu Miao already felt an itch to step in and offer advice¡ªshe couldn¡¯t stand seeing a good company go unnoticed.


    By the fourth video, the company finally started showcasing its capabilities, but unfortunately, it was all stuff Yu Miao had zero interest in: high-end servers, outrageously expensive work computers, rendering software, a workspace bustling with hundreds of employees.


    Her reaction: ...What¡¯s the appeal here?


    Just as she was about to dismiss it, she absentmindedly clicked into the comments¡ªonly to find them flooded with laughter.


    "LOL, as a VFX artist, I can confirm they¡¯re genuinely showing off the most valuable and impressive aspects of their company."


    "HAHAHAHA anyone else here from the Ten Great Immortal Palaces video?"


    "Hey, dude with the white-streaked hair, listen up¡ªthis isn¡¯t how you promote your services. Just replicate your latest video, and your company will blow up for sure."


    "Only those in the know understand how hard this company is trying to market itself."


    The top-liked comment wasn¡¯t recent. The commenter, seemingly sharing Yu Miao¡¯s sentiments, had earnestly offered suggestions:


    "Watched the first few videos. You¡¯re clearly putting in effort, and as a VFX artist, I can see how top-notch your equipment is. But most people won¡¯t get it. If you¡¯re trying to promote your company, you should make a VFX demo reel. You¡¯re a VFX studio¡ªshow off your skills to attract clients."


    This comment resonated deeply with Yu Miao. Tianying had replied at the time:


    "Got it, thank you so much! Our marketing team hasn¡¯t been hired yet, so it¡¯s just us tech folks handling promotions. We¡¯re not great at it. Appreciate the advice¡ªnext video will be a VFX showcase. Thanks again!"


    The commenter replied: "If you¡¯re not in a rush, maybe wait until your marketing team is in place. Tech people doing marketing sounds like a nightmare."


    Tianying: "(Facepalm) Our parent company is running a contest where rankings are based on video engagement. So us tech geeks are scrambling to figure this out."


    "Is the contest mandatory? Your bio says the company¡¯s pretty new¡ªcan¡¯t you just skip it?"


    Tianying: "It¡¯s optional, but the prize is three months of double salary (shy) plus an all-expenses-paid trip to see giant pandas¡ªtravel and tickets covered by HQ. We really like pandas (shy)."


    "...Are you hiring? DMing you."


    This exchange was from five days ago, back when the first four videos had little traction, so only these two were talking.


    But now? The engagement had exploded.


    When Yu Miao stumbled upon the Ten Great Immortal Palaces VFX video, its comments had already surpassed 10,000.


    And clearly, she wasn¡¯t the only one digging through the archives.


    Under this five-day-old thread, over a thousand new comments had piled up.


    "Coming from the Ten Great Immortal Palaces video¡ªthis company actually listens to feedback!"


    "At first, I thought ¡®ugh, another corporate contest, just let people work in peace.¡¯ Then I saw ¡®three months of double pay.¡¯ BOSS, ARE YOU HIRING? I¡¯M GREAT AT VIDEO EDITING!"


    "HAHAHAHA this guy¡¯s reaction to the prize is so relatable."


    "FYI, my friend works at Starlight Entertainment. She confirmed the contest is real¡ªthere¡¯s an internal leaderboard updated daily. Apparently, this VFX subsidiary was dead last until today LOL."


    "With those first four videos, no wonder they were in last place HAHAHA."


    "You can tell they REALLY love pandas."


    Yu Miao, like the other commenters, found the whole thing delightfully entertaining.


    After finishing the video, she immediately searched Starlight contest and found a flood of related content.


    Dance performances, singing covers, comedy skits¡ªall high-quality, with every on-screen person boasting above-average looks.


    The HR department posted makeup and styling tutorials.


    Finance shared accounting-related skits.


    Procurement filmed transformation videos using random office supplies.


    Marketing, true to its name, mastered the art of virality.


    They first showcased their most attractive colleagues flaunting their fit physiques, then revealed their before photos, sharing weight-loss journeys and hosting live workouts of trending exercise routines to motivate followers.


    Every department was pulling out all the stops, and nearly every video had impressive engagement.


    Yu Miao had even come across several of these videos before and had liked them. If it weren¡¯t for stumbling upon this compilation now, she wouldn¡¯t have known that these high-quality videos were all produced by various departments of Starlight Entertainment.


    This is absolutely amazing!


    How is it possible for every department to create such outstanding work?!


    After Yu Miao left this comment, someone quickly replied:


    [Well, not every department is this impressive. Just look at the special effects subsidiary Tianying next door¡ªhahahaha! If it weren¡¯t for netizens giving them suggestions, they¡¯d still be stubbornly filming their servers.]


    Tianying gained some popularity.


    This special effects subsidiary quickly became a viral topic among netizens due to its amusing approach of "technicians making videos to enter a competition."


    Alongside [Tianying, the Company That Can¡¯t Promote Itself], another trending topic was [Starlight Entertainment: A Talent Factory].


    At some point, it¡¯s unclear which department started it, but gradually, participants began sneakily praising their company¡¯s chairman, Sheng Quan, in their competition entries.


    "Look at this makeup¡ªit¡¯s all done! Isn¡¯t it stunning enough to outshine everyone? Could our boss be outshined? No way! Our boss is so beautiful she breaks the sky!"


    "Today¡¯s wealthy-themed shoot features clothes, shoes, and bags all generously provided by our beloved Chairman Sheng! Love you!"


    "Why is our company¡¯s gym so huge? Because our boss is kind and beautiful, of course! She loves working out here too¡ªoh! Speak of the devil, here she comes! Look at how amazing her figure is!"


    This widespread flattery amused netizens, who even joined in the fun.


    Some were puzzled: [What¡¯s so fun about sucking up to the boss? I hate that kind of thing!]


    Someone immediately replied: [We¡¯re not obsessed with flattering the boss¡ªwe¡¯re obsessed with flattering a boss who¡¯s approachable and generous with employee benefits. It¡¯s like how I never want to participate in my own company¡¯s competitions, but I¡¯d jump at the chance to join Starlight Entertainment¡¯s contests.]


    [Why? Because at my company, we have to pay for our own costumes for the annual party, and the best prize is a single phone shared among a bunch of people. Meanwhile, Starlight¡¯s competitions let you borrow filming and prop equipment from the company, and the prizes range from first to fifth place¡ªfirst prize gets three months of double salary! Tell me, with a boss like that, how could you resist praising her?]


    This reply quickly rose to the top of the likes, with everyone agreeing wholeheartedly.


    [My boss watched these videos yesterday and asked why employees at other companies are so talented. I was screaming internally¡ªif he didn¡¯t force unpaid overtime, I¡¯d be busting out talents left and right for him to see.]


    [Wow... I last paid attention to Starlight Entertainment when it was just starting. Now it¡¯s grown this big?]


    [To the comment above¡ªthe chairman is Sheng Quan. Of course it¡¯s huge.]


    [Speaking of which, Sheng Quan seems pretty active online. Does she watch these employee videos? If she sees something really good, would she give rewards? Didn¡¯t she once reward the original author of "The Road of Life"?]


    Sheng Quan, who happened to be scrolling through videos and saw this comment, could answer honestly: Yes, she would.


    The fundamental purpose of this [Company Competition] was to promote the subsidiary Tianying. Whether domestically or internationally, the best way for a special effects company to attract clients is through advertising.


    For well-known special effects companies, every blockbuster film they work on essentially serves as their advertisement.


    Sometimes, these companies even take on big projects at a loss just to showcase their technical prowess.


    But in today¡¯s internet era, where short videos dominate, using them for promotion is a brilliant idea¡ªespecially since Tianying¡¯s major projects haven¡¯t been released yet.


    Sure, it¡¯s costly upfront, but Sheng Quan isn¡¯t afraid of spending money.


    The [Starlight Competition] was part of the promotional strategy. No matter where it¡¯s seen, those jaw-dropping, budget-burning special effects would undoubtedly stand out and generate buzz.


    Of course, in the entertainment industry, technical skill alone isn¡¯t enough¡ªthere needs to be engaging storytelling.


    Thus, the topic [How Technicians Entered the Competition] was born.


    Instead of "a subsidiary submitting a special effects video so stunning it instantly wins first prize," audiences preferred "technicians obsessively showcasing their server hardware and software, languishing in last place until netizens intervened, leading to a meteoric rise to first place with a special effects masterpiece."


    It had everything: audience participation, humor, an underdog story, and quirky technician personas.


    From there, Tianying only needed to keep releasing eye-catching special effects videos.


    They¡¯d naturally carry their own viral appeal.


    [What kind of videos do technicians make for promotions? Hahahaha, the way they proudly introduce their servers is hilarious!]


    [I¡¯m dying! Anyone who¡¯s worked in special effects knows how time-consuming this stuff is, yet Tianying is insanely productive. And after noticing other departments praising their boss, they jumped on the bandwagon too. Clearly, they really love giant pandas.]


    [HAHAHAHA I just saw footage of Tianying filming their video¡ªthey¡¯re performing so seriously while bystanders look at them like they¡¯ve lost their minds!]


    [These technicians might suck at promotions, but their special effects are legit!! Omg, I feel like they¡¯re on par with Hollywood blockbuster-level CGI!]


    [I bet tons of films will approach Tianying for effects work. This quality is perfect for big-budget spectacles!]


    Indeed, film studios were already reaching out to Tianying.


    Most of the company¡¯s special effects artists were formerly part of Mirage Studios. When Tan Hongguang recruited them, they deliberated carefully before joining.


    No one expected Tianying to gain fame this quickly.


    The technicians truly weren¡¯t good at promotions¡ªevery move they made was guided by Starlight¡¯s team.


    Then, as if in a dream, after posting just a few special effects videos on a short-video platform, the company suddenly blew up.


    Amid the celebration, Tan Hongguang turned down a well-funded film studio after several discussions.


    The team was baffled. In their Mirage days, they¡¯d have clung to such an opportunity like a lifeline.


    "Their timeline is too tight. Chairman Sheng has made it clear¡ªTianying prioritizes quality above all. If negotiations don¡¯t align with that, we walk away."


    Tan Hongguang¡¯s hair was still streaked with white, but his demeanor had transformed. With a calm smile, he added:


    "Don¡¯t worry about lacking projects. From now on, most of Starlight¡¯s ventures will assign work to us."


    The moment these words were spoken, everyone froze.


    It took a good ten seconds before a female colleague with similarly graying temples asked in a slightly excited tone, "So, does this mean we can focus solely on producing masterpieces from now on?"


    No ?????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????one enjoyed churning out garbage. Given the chance, who wouldn¡¯t want their work to be praised by the masses, or their company¡¯s name to evoke admiration whenever mentioned?


    The colleagues fell silent, their gazes¡ªfilled with the same anticipation¡ªturning toward Tan Hongguang.


    Under their collective stare, Tan Hongguang smiled and nodded slowly.


    At that moment, everyone erupted into uncontrollable cheers!


    Some, who were avid TV drama fans, even shouted:


    "Long live Chairman Sheng!!"


    "Long live!!!"


    Meanwhile, the very Chairman Sheng they were practically ready to worship was reviewing a project in her hands:


    "Interstellar?"


    Gu Zhao nodded. "The investment required is enormous, and the production timeline will likely be lengthy. The total cost could exceed a billion, possibly even more. If it fails to deliver, even Starlight Entertainment would suffer significant losses."


    Interstellar blockbusters were rare in China. In her previous life, Sheng Quan had watched a few, but in this world, the genre was even more niche than xianxia. While xianxia at least had some presence in TV dramas, interstellar was undeniably a cold market in every aspect.


    Yet globally, interstellar themes were wildly popular, frequently appearing in annual lists of hit productions.


    To put it simply, it wasn¡¯t that interstellar was unpopular¡ªit was just that no one in China had dared to tackle it.


    The reason remained the same: the investment was simply too massive.


    Sheng Quan looked at Gu Zhao. "What do you think?"


    Gu Zhao¡¯s expression, as cool and composed as ever, betrayed no hesitation. "I think we should do it."


    He lifted his gaze, his striking light gray eyes meeting hers. His magnetic voice, usually laced with detachment, now carried a hint of warmth:


    "I¡¯ve reviewed Tianying¡¯s footage. This film might just be their debut."


    Sheng Quan smiled.


    Gu Zhao had never been one for conservatism¡ªespecially not when his boss wasn¡¯t either.


    She closed the file in her hands. "Start the preparations. It¡¯s been a while since I¡¯ve seen a good interstellar movie."


    Come to think of it, interstellar themes often involved cutting-edge technology.


    And as everyone knew, cutting-edge technology meant exorbitant costs.


    Since her financial restrictions had been lifted, Sheng Quan¡¯s disposable personal funds¡ªafter deducting expenses for Tianying¡ªcurrently stood at three hundred million.


    A thoughtful expression crossed her face.


    If she spent some of that money to develop high-tech equipment for the film...


    Wouldn¡¯t that be perfectly reasonable?

 Chapter 56

    Starlight Entertainment has launched a new project, packed with elements like interstellar themes, war, military life, special effects, patriotism, high technology, and even the mysteriously mind-bending concept of time travel¡ªpresented in a scientifically plausible way.


    Upon hearing it was a major production, potential investors were left speechless: "..."


    There was a time when China¡¯s film industry was obsessed with investing in blockbusters crammed with multiple elements.


    Some genius had the bright idea that if one element could bring success, why not pile on more and sprinkle in some star power? Surely that would guarantee a larger audience than any other film?


    Absolute goldmine!


    ¡ªAnd then the investors lost everything.


    After a few such disasters, everyone wised up. The mention of "multi-element" projects now made them shake their heads: "Let someone else take the risk. I¡¯m not touching it."


    This wasn¡¯t "multi-element"¡ªit was "multi-flop."


    After the massive success of The Cultivator, even though Sheng Quan had only invested in that one film, she earned the title of "Golden Touch" in the industry.


    This circle is never short of people eager to follow the Golden Touch.


    But now, Golden Touch Quan was investing in a "multi-flop."


    "...Isn¡¯t this too many elements?" whispered one film investor, who made a habit of tailing big shots, as he probed Mr. Wang for insights. "I heard you put in 20 million. Did you spot something special about this project?"


    Mr. Wang chuckled and sipped his tea. "At my age, how would I understand such a novel concept? I¡¯m just following Chairman Sheng¡¯s lead."


    "Twenty million isn¡¯t small change. You just threw it in without a second thought?" The investor was still hesitant.


    At this, Mr. Wang couldn¡¯t help but grin.


    "In the past, I might¡¯ve hesitated. But The Cultivator¡¯s dividends padded my pockets nicely. Twenty million? Easy to spare."


    The investor: "..."


    Pure, unadulterated bragging. He and Mr. Wang had been friends for years¡ªnot bosom buddies, but close enough to share drinks and dubious advice. Back when The Cultivator was seeking funding, Mr. Wang had not only invested himself but also recommended it to him.


    At the time, he¡¯d dismissed it, convinced that a xianxia film was doomed. He¡¯d even tried to talk Mr. Wang out of it, privately suspecting the man had lost his marbles with age.


    And now? Regret didn¡¯t even begin to cover it.


    Reading his friend¡¯s conflicted expression, Mr. Wang smirked and huffed.


    "I told you back then¡ªdon¡¯t underestimate Chairman Sheng just because she¡¯s young. She¡¯s sharp. If she¡¯s willing to drop over a hundred million on a project, she¡¯s at least 80% sure it¡¯ll pay off."


    "Alright, alright, my bad. Here, a toast with tea¡ªconsider it an apology." Whatever his past doubts, he knew Mr. Wang had genuinely tried to include him in the windfall. He just hadn¡¯t seized the opportunity.


    After a sip, he sighed. "But honestly, I never expected The Cultivator to blow up like this. That young Chairman Sheng is something else¡ªshe even revived xianxia."


    Mr. Wang¡¯s pride swelled further. "That¡¯s why I¡¯ve got an eye for talent. I got on her radar before her company even took off. Sure, her presence is hard to ignore, but who was the first to cozy up? Me."


    "Your instincts are top-tier," his friend conceded, raising a thumb before hesitating again. "But The Cultivator was still a single-genre project. This one... I¡¯m still worried."


    Mr. Wang didn¡¯t push. He leisurely sipped his tea. "Up to you. I¡¯ve already invested. Win or lose, I can take it."


    His lack of persuasion only steeled his friend¡¯s resolve. "Fine! I¡¯m in too! Twenty million, same as you!"


    Now Mr. Wang looked surprised. "Twenty mil? Not afraid of losing it all?"


    "Last time I missed the boat. This time, I¡¯m boarding early." Having made his decision, his friend relaxed. "Even if it only makes three-fifths of The Cultivator¡¯s box office, it¡¯s enough."


    "Losing means 20 million gone. Winning? A golden goose. Worth the gamble."


    While some, like Mr. Wang¡¯s friend, gritted their teeth and jumped in, others took one look at the "multi-flop" and bailed.


    "The script is brilliant, but the scale is just too massive. Has Xu Man gotten addicted to grand spectacles? The number of large-scale scenes here is absurd. If she loves this style, why not just make The Cultivator 2?"


    "Exactly. The special effects budget alone is staggering. And now they need to film both modern and interstellar military scenes? This genre¡¯s approval process is a nightmare. If it gets blocked, all that work is wasted."


    "I¡¯m not risking it. If it were The Cultivator 2, I¡¯d invest in a heartbeat. But this project? Too many hurdles."


    Compared to those wavering or outright rejecting the project, investors who¡¯d backed The Cultivator all chipped in to some degree.


    First, like Mr. Wang, The Cultivator had lined their pockets, leaving them flush and willing to spend.


    Second, they weren¡¯t just investing in a project¡ªthey were investing in Sheng Quan herself.


    Sheng Quan was... an interesting case. In daily interactions, she was all smiles, often delegating negotiations to subordinates while she listened quietly.


    She seemed like any other young woman¡ªsipping milk tea, inviting Director Xu out for fun, basking in good weather, watching actors film big scenes.


    But when it mattered, she was unshakable.


    The Cultivator¡¯s production hadn¡¯t been smooth sailing. Films never are. Yet no matter the crisis, even when seasoned investors like Mr. Wang showed nerves, Sheng Quan calmly handled everything.


    And her inner circle? Fiercely loyal.


    Leading the pack were Yu Xiangwan and Gu Zhao¡ªone guarding the set, the other the company, leaving no vulnerabilities.


    When The Cultivator exploded in popularity and overshadowed Iron-Willed Boss, a high-budget project Qingniao Entertainment had spent over a year and immense resources on, 70% of the industry expected Xie Wanzhao to retaliate.


    But she didn¡¯t.


    Not only did Xie Wanzhao avoid targeting The Cultivator, she even publicly praised it. The move left jaws on the floor.


    However meteoric Sheng Quan¡¯s rise, most still saw Xie Wanzhao¡ªa veteran of the entertainment world¡ªas the stronger force.


    Yet Xie Wanzhao had conceded.


    Her stated reason? "The film industry needs change. We should collaborate to create better movies."


    But most read it as her knowing something the rest didn¡¯t.


    What exactly?


    It might be Sheng Quan''s family background.


    Or perhaps it''s her capabilities and methods.


    In any case, rather than believing this to be a "friendly concession," they were more inclined to see it as "having no choice but to yield."


    This inevitably led some overthinking business owners to speculate¡ªand their speculations weren''t entirely baseless. Hadn''t Sheng Quan recently spent a fortune in Country A to purchase the iconic Jones Manor?


    Moreover, she had even managed to gather so many of Country A''s elite to attend her banquet. Almost every international celebrity who received an invitation showed up. Many couldn''t help but wonder if she had connections to Country A''s political circles.


    Those with business ties in Country A naturally sought to get closer to Sheng Quan.


    Even though Sheng Quan herself insisted, "What political connections? I''m purely a Chinese national¡ªI just happened to make some friends at the banquet."


    But the more she downplayed it, the more people became convinced there had to be something to it.


    So, even though most weren''t optimistic about her upcoming sci-fi film, investments kept pouring in¡ªmostly from those hoping to "buy a familiar face" with their money.


    While individually these amounts weren¡¯t huge, collectively they added up to a staggering sum.


    Sheng Quan flipped through the financial details, shaking her head in amusement:


    "No wonder they say connections are everything. Just one Starlight Banquet¡ªI didn¡¯t even invite them¡ªand here they are, throwing money at me."


    Yu Xiangwan placed a bowl of freshly washed cherries in front of her with a smile. "They¡¯re already thinking about next year¡¯s Starlight Banquet."


    "Exactly. They¡¯re all shrewd operators."


    Sheng Quan popped a cherry into her mouth, savoring it with half-closed eyes. "This works out perfectly. With so many sharing the costs, I can focus on other things now."


    Not to mention these smaller contributions, Xie Wanzhao alone had boldly invested 100 million¡ªthough paid in installments, it was a clear testament to her trust in Sheng Quan.


    Even for major corporations, mobilizing such large liquid funds required careful planning. For Xie Wanzhao, this investment in Starlight was nothing short of a high-stakes gamble.


    Admittedly, securing these funds had significantly eased Sheng Quan¡¯s pressure.


    Her own 300 million was earmarked for other ventures. If she had to shoulder the film¡¯s entire budget alone, she wouldn¡¯t have been able to pursue anything else for the next six months.


    The script was penned by a renowned screenwriter, with Xu Man set as the chief director. Wan Bao, now mostly recovered, would also join the directing team. The production crew was in reliable hands.


    Sheng Quan¡¯s focus, however, was on cutting-edge technology.


    In Starlight, there was a scene where a film crew shooting a sci-fi movie consulted various experts in the field. At first, the production team could follow the discussion, but soon it became utterly incomprehensible.


    After much effort, they finally managed some basic communication. During note-taking, the screenwriter casually remarked, "Is this kind of technology still beyond our country¡¯s capabilities?"


    One expert sighed regretfully, "If only Ning Zhou were still alive¡ªhe might have pulled it off. This was his initial proposal."


    Who was Ning Zhou?


    How old was he?


    The book never specified, and readers naturally wouldn¡¯t dwell on such a passing mention. Still, a few idle readers searched the text for Ning Zhou¡¯s name and found a brief reference earlier¡ªduring the screenwriter¡¯s research phase. It only mentioned that, due to funding shortages in his early research, Ning Zhou had resorted to using toxic materials in his experiments.


    Despite precautions, his health deteriorated after achieving results.


    Even after being recruited into a state-classified research unit, where a team of top medical experts meticulously cared for him, the short-lived genius Ning Zhou ultimately succumbed to illness.


    And yes, Sheng Quan was one of those idle readers.


    The book never revealed his age or location, so after transmigrating, all she had to go on was his name and that convoluted research project.


    Truthfully, she couldn¡¯t even recall the full name of the project¡ªjust that if she saw it again, she¡¯d recognize it. But memorizing it? Impossible.


    So lately, Sheng Quan had been buried in scientific research papers and projects, stuck in a perpetual state of "Wow, this looks impressive¡ªbut I don¡¯t understand a word."


    She couldn¡¯t even use the phrase "short-lived genius" as a search parameter. In the research world, making breakthroughs at forty still counted as young.


    While Sheng Quan¡¯s wealth could easily hire experts, she refused to give up before production officially began.


    Mainly because, though the book never stated it outright, a researcher whose death left so many experts grieving¡ªone deemed worthy of a state-assigned medical team¡ªdying due to subpar materials was just too tragic.


    Cross-referencing the book¡¯s sparse timeline clues, she was certain Ning Zhou hadn¡¯t yet joined the classified unit.


    In fact, he might still be in the process of using¡ªor not yet using¡ªthose toxic materials.


    So even if it strained her eyes, she had to keep searching.


    Chairwoman Sheng, with all her wealth, simply couldn¡¯t bear to see talent wasted.


    The moment Yu Xiangwan left, Sheng Quan dove back into her sea of books.


    The difference was, while reading used to feel like swimming, now it felt like drowning every second.


    "Ugh, but this is impossible to find..."


    The wealthy but scientifically illiterate Chairwoman set down the book, rubbing her temples.


    "Honestly, searching for ''Ning Zhou'' directly might be faster than trying to find that term."


    006: [System query indicates 36 individuals nationwide named Ning Zhou.]


    Sheng Quan: "..."


    She decisively closed the book. "Let¡¯s just search by name. I recall the public security database allows nationwide name checks, filtered by city. We¡¯ll go through them one by one."


    Anything was better than staring at these incomprehensible texts!


    People should stick to their own expertise.


    Just then, her phone rang¡ªAdviser Qin calling.


    Instantly, Sheng Quan¡¯s frustrated expression brightened.


    Calling this late?


    The favor she¡¯d asked him about must have borne fruit.


    When the new project Interstellar War was announced and the production team began recruiting staff, news suddenly broke:


    The film had secured military approval for certain scenes to be shot on base.


    Not only that¡ªthe military would even lend equipment for filming.


    Everyone: "..."


    When Mr. Wang¡¯s friend heard the news, his heart nearly stopped.


    "And not just one military district¡ªmultiple?! This film¡¯s clearance is guaranteed!"


    Mr. Wang was equally stunned, but seeing his friend¡¯s reaction, he feigned composure.


    "I told you. Sheng Quan kept denying her foreign connections for a reason."


    "Turns out, her real backing is right here at home."


    A friend glanced at the group chat and said, "Chairman Sheng Quan mentioned that she had previously collaborated with the military for about half a year, so the approval process went smoothly this time. Someone asked, but she insisted she has no military connections and told everyone not to speculate."


    Sheng Quan''s tone was so earnest that he was starting to half-believe her.


    Mr. Wang smiled confidently. "See, this is what you call true modesty. People with real influence stay low-key."


    His ?????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????friend was startled. "You mean...?"


    Mr. Wang raised an eyebrow at him, and the friend suddenly understood. "Got it, got it."


    "Since Chairman Sheng says she has no military background, we¡¯ll just pretend we genuinely believe her."


    The thought of boarding this ''big ship'' made it impossible for him to suppress his grin. Still, he made an effort to show his stance:


    "Stay low-key, low-key."

 Chapter 57

    Faced with the widespread rumors like "Did you know? Sheng Quan is also xxxxx in the military district," Chairman Sheng could only sigh helplessly.


    Elder Qin Guofu, however, remained unfazed: "They¡¯re not entirely wrong. The military does hold you in high regard."


    Sheng Quan¡¯s reputation among certain military units was indeed excellent.


    Opening a "green channel" for veterans¡¯ employment was already a goodwill magnet, not to mention her arrangements for disabled veterans.


    Rather than simply providing for them, she first hired instructors to teach them skills before offering job opportunities¡ªthis alone won over officers who worried about their soldiers¡¯ post-service careers.


    While the military couldn¡¯t easily grant leave, they could certainly make phone calls. Most of the veterans who made it onto the list through Qin Guofu had one or two "old squad leaders" who kept a close eye on them.


    By the second round of recruitment, the slots had become fiercely competitive.


    After finally "snagging" a spot, the "old squad leaders" naturally followed up¡ªasking about the company environment, how well the recruits were adapting, and whether they were learning anything.


    To these questions, the trainees responded with enthusiastic praise. Though the training was tough, soldiers weren¡¯t afraid of hardship. They were just thrilled to be learning marketable skills¡ªwhile getting paid for it. Add in the advisors¡¯ comparisons with other security firms¡¯ benefits, and the recruits felt downright fortunate.


    The cafeteria served nutritious, tasty meals; uniforms were provided; instructors were on hand for lessons; and injuries during training were promptly treated in the infirmary. Pass the exams, and they¡¯d land high-paying jobs immediately.


    The coaches and advisors were strict, but no more so than in the military. During breaks, everyone joked around like comrades. When they called home to share the news, their families rejoiced with them.


    The advisors often emphasized: the company aimed for growth, but even if it folded someday, the skills they¡¯d gained would still secure them decent jobs¡ªmaybe not at the current high salaries, but respectable ones nonetheless.


    The military saw clearly how much effort Sheng Quan put into helping these veterans¡ªand that her intentions were genuine.


    No wonder the third recruitment round was another scramble. Word had spread far and wide, with officers across units vying to get their soldiers on the list.


    The third reason for the military¡¯s overwhelming goodwill? Sheng Quan¡¯s generous donations of supplies and funds to certain units.


    Yes, back during the Starlight Banquet in Country A, where she splurged to build hype, Sheng Quan made sure to donate double that amount domestically for every dollar spent abroad.


    At the time, Lane thought she was throwing money into the wind, and Sheng Quan herself expected nothing in return.


    But the recipient units remembered.


    Already fond of her, their admiration skyrocketed.


    Especially since Sheng Quan¡¯s actions showed clear respect for the military¡ªand who doesn¡¯t appreciate being liked, especially when backed by tangible support?


    "I heard it¡¯s usually only when the government is directly involved that approvals move this fast," Qin Guofu remarked with pride. "Shows the state recognizes your contributions."


    Ordinary approvals wouldn¡¯t have raced through so swiftly, let alone granted permission to deploy a thousand troops for two months of filming¡ªcomplete with access to military-specific equipment, including fighter jets and naval vessels.


    In her past life, Sheng Quan hadn¡¯t paid attention to military-assisted productions. But in this world, this was the highest level of support the armed forces could offer.


    "So we¡¯d better make it count," she told Xiang Wan and the crew. The assembled team nodded fervently, practically buzzing with determination.


    With such cooperation from the military, it wouldn¡¯t be an exaggeration to say Star Battle was being made with the armed forces¡¯ backing.


    No one was more thrilled than the screenwriter. Yes, she¡¯d been established before, but never had one of her scripts attracted a production of this scale.


    Pre-production budget already exceeded 1.4 billion. Starlight Entertainment had earmarked it as their flagship project for the coming year, with The Cultivator¡¯s director Xu Man at the helm¡ªand likely many of that hit¡¯s now-famous actors joining the cast.


    And now, military backing?!


    While drafting the script, she¡¯d oscillated between giddy excitement ("This will be huge!") and crushing realism ("The budget alone will scare everyone off"). By the final draft, pessimism had nearly won¡ªbut creators write first, think later. Despite juggling other projects and a year and a half of research, she¡¯d stubbornly finished it.


    The script was her heart and soul, so of course she wanted it to succeed¡ªeven if logic said the odds were slim.


    Then, just a month after completion, a friend circulated it to major studios¡ªand Starlight Entertainment called. The chairman loved it.


    They¡¯d film it, no matter the cost.


    Next came a record-breaking sale price.


    Then an invitation to join the production¡ªwith a jaw-dropping fee.


    Before casting even began, teams of specialists were already consulting.


    And now, military approval¡ªtantamount to national endorsement.


    The screenwriter was over the moon.


    It all felt like a dream. Even rewriting scenes to incorporate actual military tech and advanced weaponry was a joy.


    The headache? Adjustments weren¡¯t just military-related. The futuristic sci-fi elements¡ªoriginally pure imagination¡ªnow faced scrutiny from the very experts they¡¯d painstakingly recruited.


    In her first draft, the interstellar setting¡¯s tech was easy: centuries removed from today, she¡¯d let creativity run wild.


    But these experts debated "future interstellar technology" with dead seriousness, hurling jargon-filled arguments in endless meetings.


    As the lead writer, she and her team had to attend, take notes, ask questions¡ªand at least pretend to follow along.


    Their initial "This is amazing!" enthusiasm lasted precisely two meetings before devolving into "Just end me now."


    Even Sheng Quan, who usually loved to join in on the fun, attended one of the discussions and never showed up at similar meetings again.


    The last time she ran into the scriptwriting team, Sheng Quan patted her shoulder sympathetically and said, "Hang in there, you guys can do it!"


    The scriptwriter: "..."


    She really wanted to say she couldn¡¯t, especially after Sheng Quan reviewed her nth draft of the high-tech elements and suddenly exclaimed with excitement:


    "You know, if we hired someone to actually develop a real prototype, wouldn¡¯t that save us a lot of trouble during filming?"


    The scriptwriter: "..."


    She weakly reminded her, "...If a working prototype existed, the experts probably wouldn¡¯t be arguing so fiercely. Even they haven¡¯t been able to develop it."


    Sheng Quan still seemed intrigued. "If the experts can¡¯t do it, maybe someone else can? What if we nurture talent nationwide? Imagine if we could pull it off¡ªwhile others use fakes, we¡¯d have the real thing. Doesn¡¯t that sound amazing?"


    The scriptwriter: "..."


    If not for the fact that Sheng Quan often treated her to meals and drinks, bought her cat a massive climbing tower after petting it, and was the biggest investor in the production, she might¡¯ve blurted out three burning questions:


    Do people use fakes because they don¡¯t want the real thing?


    Are ?????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????scientific breakthroughs something you can just ¡®nurture¡¯ into existence?


    Do you even realize how incredibly accomplished the experts you¡¯ve hired are?


    Of course, she didn¡¯t say any of that.


    Maybe it was because of those messy reasons, or maybe because, despite all the internal complaints, when she really thought about it... it did sound pretty satisfying.


    After working together, the scriptwriter concluded that Sheng Quan did have a naive side (in her opinion)¡ªotherwise, she wouldn¡¯t have greenlit her script in the first place.


    When she wrote this grand, ambitious story, she never imagined it could actually be produced.


    And now, Sheng Quan was holding her hand, eyes sparkling with excitement as she said:


    "Right, Qin Qin? That¡¯s exactly what I thought when I read your script. Before this, I¡¯d never considered investing in scientific research. But your story made me realize how worthwhile it is. If any of my investments lead to real breakthroughs, you¡¯ll have played a part in it."


    "Even if we don¡¯t succeed right away, nurturing scientific talent is still a good thing."


    With her soft hands clasping hers and those sweet words in her ears, the scriptwriter instantly melted and switched sides.


    "If you¡¯re not worried about the investment going to waste, then it¡¯s worth a try. We¡¯d need to set up a research scene for filming anyway."


    Then, she learned that Sheng Quan had hit it off with one of the expert consultants and, in a bold move, decided to donate to the expert¡¯s alma mater for "charitable education support."


    Not only that¡ªshe also planned to select a student research project at the university to fund.


    The scriptwriter: "???"


    Wait, if you¡¯re investing in research, shouldn¡¯t you target established or semi-established projects?


    College students???


    Meanwhile, students at the prestigious university heard about the upcoming donation ceremony.


    At first, most of them weren¡¯t particularly interested.


    Their school had produced plenty of high-achievers, and it wasn¡¯t uncommon for successful alumni to return and donate.


    Just as everyone was about to go back to their own business, news broke that the donor¡ªa wealthy businesswoman¡ªintended to select a few student research projects to sponsor.


    "So what? Alumni have done this before. There¡¯s way more demand than supply, and even if you get picked, the funding isn¡¯t much. Not worth the hassle."


    Students with ongoing projects were mostly indifferent when classmates told them.


    "We¡¯re better off applying for the school¡¯s funding. If our project gets approved, that¡¯s a solid 200,000 yuan! Why that look? You turning your nose up at 200,000 now? That¡¯s a huge amount!"


    "By the way, how much is this donor planning to invest?"


    The classmate: "A hundred million."


    The student: "..."


    Other students: "..."


    Two seconds later, a deafening shout erupted in the dorm:


    "A HUNDRED MILLION?!!!!!"

 Chapter 58

    Generally speaking, university students aren¡¯t particularly fond of participating in school activities.


    ¡ªUnless the event comes with funding support of 100 million yuan.


    To say the entire campus was buzzing would be no exaggeration.


    That¡¯s right¡ªeven the professors were excited.


    A hundred million yuan? Everyone wanted a piece of that.


    Anyone in academia knows that research is essentially burning money. The costs of raw materials and equipment go without saying, but even routine supplies add up to a massive expense. That¡¯s why every year, faculty members scramble like mad to secure funding, each employing their own unique strategies.


    But no matter how fiercely they¡¯ve competed before, none of them had ever fought over a sum this large!


    And the real kicker? The person offering this funding, President Sheng, wasn¡¯t even an alum of their university. She had made it clear that she intended to invest in a select few promising projects.


    A few!


    Not triple digits, not even double digits¡ªjust single digits!


    A handful of projects, sharing a billion yuan!


    If selected, even the smallest share would likely be in the tens of millions, right?


    Who wouldn¡¯t be tempted?


    If President Sheng hadn¡¯t explicitly stated that her goal was to nurture the nation¡¯s future talents¡ªand that this funding was strictly for student projects¡ªthe professors would have been elbowing their way into the competition themselves.


    Of course, even if they couldn¡¯t apply directly, they could still help their students vie for the opportunity.


    As a prestigious research-focused institution, C University had an intensely competitive academic atmosphere. Professors naturally had their favored students and were eager to see them seize this rare chance.


    Dr. Chen Aihong, a C University alum who had introduced President Sheng to the school, found herself bombarded with calls from former classmates still on faculty. They grilled her for details¡ªwhat kind of projects was President Sheng leaning toward? Could she arrange a meeting? And so on.


    Some didn¡¯t even bother with subtlety, outright asking if she could persuade the big boss to lift the student-only restriction, since they themselves had highly promising projects in the works.


    Faced with these requests from old classmates, Dr. Chen couldn¡¯t help but feel a flicker of pride amid her amusement.


    "Don¡¯t think it¡¯s just you¡ªeven the university president brought it up. President Sheng didn¡¯t outright reject the idea, but she made it clear that this round of funding is prioritizing young students."


    "This round?" Her former classmate¡¯s voice perked up with hope. "Does that mean there¡¯ll be another round later?"


    "That¡¯s the impression I got. Though she grew up overseas, President Sheng was raised with traditional Chinese values. She hasn¡¯t said it outright, but we suspect she might have family ties to the military¡ªshe¡¯s very passionate about contributing in this way."


    Just talking about it made Dr. Chen¡¯s face light up with a smile:


    "Otherwise, after our conversation about this field, she wouldn¡¯t have immediately decided to donate and invest just because I praised our university."


    And she had every right to feel proud. When the rest of the research team¡¯s experts heard about this, they were practically green with envy. Many lamented that they should¡¯ve taken the chance to hype up their own alma maters to President Sheng.


    Even long after graduation, most people would jump at the opportunity to bring donations or investments back to their schools. Thanks to Dr. Chen¡¯s efforts, C University¡ªfrom the president down to the students¡ªwas now the recipient of an astronomical sum. It wasn¡¯t her money, but who at C University wouldn¡¯t be grateful to her?


    And beyond the gratitude, it just felt good.


    C University had always been a cradle for talent, pouring resources into nurturing bright minds¡ªespecially high-IQ students like Dr. Chen. During her time there, she¡¯d benefited immensely from the school¡¯s support.


    Back then, her family had been far from well-off, but the faculty treated their most gifted students like treasures. Many professors would go without to ensure these students had what they needed.


    For experts of her generation, the emotional ties to their alma mater ran deep. Now, not only had Dr. Chen found a way to give back, but her juniors had also gained this incredible opportunity. The satisfaction was immeasurable.


    She was especially glad she¡¯d taken this consulting job after some hesitation. Initially, it had been the generous salary that swayed her, but after joining and witnessing the entire crew¡¯s dedication, she¡¯d come to believe in their mission¡ª"contributing to Chinese cinema."


    Now, not only had she made that contribution and earned her pay, but the entire team treated her with deep respect, addressing her as "Professor" and learning from her with humility. And on top of all that, she¡¯d connected President Sheng with her alma mater. This gig had been more than worth it!


    Though she didn¡¯t say it aloud, Dr. Chen had already decided: if President Sheng came calling again, unless she was tied up with critical work, she¡¯d sign on without hesitation.


    The other experts felt much the same. Even setting aside President Sheng¡¯s massive donation to Dr. Chen¡¯s university, the overall experience had left them feeling it was time well spent.


    Human nature being what it is, when people discover something great, they naturally want to share it with friends.


    While the film¡¯s cast was still being finalized, several consulting experts had already invited other luminaries in their fields to join.


    Sometimes, debates would grow so heated that someone would pull out their phone mid-argument, scrolling through contacts while declaring:


    "Just wait¡ªI¡¯m calling Old Zhang. He¡¯s the real expert on this. Lucky for you, he¡¯s free right now. You¡¯ll see!"


    Next thing they knew, Old Zhang would be passionately weighing in over the phone, and the discussion would inevitably end with him packing his bags and rushing over to join in person.


    President Sheng¡¯s directive for these situations was simple:


    "Open arms. One comes? Welcome them. Two come? Welcome them both. No compensation is too high for this caliber of talent."


    She was ravenous for expertise. Others might look at President Sheng¡¯s team and see an abundance of talent, but her ambitions spanned the globe. If circumstances allowed, she¡¯d happily scoop up every brilliant mind in China.


    After a couple of days on set, the newly arrived experts reached the same conclusion:


    "The academic atmosphere here is exceptional. Definitely worth the trip."


    This top-down culture of excellence was no accident¡ªPresident Sheng¡¯s influence permeated the entire production. Even though she¡¯d been absent these past few days, it did nothing to dampen their growing admiration for the young visionary.


    President Sheng, meanwhile, was busy selecting projects for funding.


    In novels, such decisions might be wrapped up in a sentence or two, but in reality, whittling down countless outstanding proposals from a top-tier university¡¯s brightest minds to just three? That took serious time.


    Her focus on C University wasn¡¯t random. After extensive research, she¡¯d confirmed that Ning Zhou was enrolled there¡ªa fact that genuinely surprised her.


    The original novel had only briefly mentioned Ning Zhou, but it was clear his scientific achievements were extraordinary. When she¡¯d first started searching for him by name, she¡¯d assumed he¡¯d be in his forties at least.


    Complicating matters, President Sheng couldn¡¯t simply ask connections to dig up information. Conscious of her future as a formidable figure, she took great care to avoid drawing attention to her knowledge of the novel¡¯s plot.


    The more famous a person is, the more they attract scrutiny from others. Sheng Quan even felt that someone must have already investigated her several times. If nothing else, the fact that she donated supplies to the military while also contributing police cars to the local district station was enough to draw attention from higher-ups.


    Especially since, on the surface, she had just returned from abroad and was looking for highly sensitive scientific talent. Putting herself in their shoes, she¡¯d investigate too.


    So how did she find out that Ning Zhou was at C University?


    Because President Sheng suddenly had a flash of inspiration¡ªshe started searching for news reports related to Ning Zhou¡¯s name on Baidu.


    Her logic was this: Since Ning Zhou was so exceptional in the book, he must have been outstanding from a young age. There were cases of late bloomers, but that didn¡¯t quite apply in the field of scientific research.


    At the very least, the experts hired for the film crew, even if they didn¡¯t stand out as children, would immediately outshine their peers once they started school. Some were all-rounders, but most had a specialty¡ªand in that one subject, they¡¯d consistently score full marks.


    So if Ning Zhou was a genius, there might be news about him being a top scorer in the high school or college entrance exams.


    With that thought, Sheng Quan searched and actually found something.


    Her reaction upon seeing the results was: "..."


    No wonder he was so hard to find.


    Ning Zhou was only 21 this year and still in graduate school.


    A genius.


    Though C University had many such geniuses, what surprised Sheng Quan was that while the professors eagerly recommended their brightest students to her, no one even mentioned Ning Zhou¡¯s name.


    If not for the fact that she had clearly found news reports stating Ning Zhou had entered C University as a provincial top scorer and a young genius¡ªand even saw his name on the list of outstanding students¡ªshe might have thought she¡¯d come to the wrong school.


    Sheng Quan directly pointed at Ning Zhou¡¯s name on the list and asked the professor accompanying her during the project selection:


    "This Ning Zhou¡ªI remember reading about him in the news. Wasn¡¯t he the top scorer in his province¡¯s college entrance exams? And he¡¯s still quite young. How come I don¡¯t see his name among the project applicants?"


    With so many outstanding students at C University, the accompanying professor naturally couldn¡¯t know every single one by heart. He immediately said he¡¯d check with Ning Zhou¡¯s advisor.


    Ning Zhou¡¯s advisor was named Li Jun¡ªa common name, but quite renowned at C University for mentoring many exceptional students. When Li Jun received the call and heard Ning Zhou¡¯s name, he was momentarily stunned.


    Upon learning that the high-profile business magnate¡ªrumored to be investing 100 million in student projects¡ªactually knew of Ning Zhou, his eyebrows practically flew up in excitement.


    As for why Ning Zhou hadn¡¯t applied for the project, Li Jun quickly explained:


    "Of course he¡¯s applying! Such a great opportunity¡ªNing Zhou would never miss it. His project is quite large, so the preparation took longer. I¡¯ll hurry him along. Yes, yes, we¡¯re definitely submitting it!"


    As soon as he hung up, Li Jun was about to call Ning Zhou, but then reconsidered and decided to go to the lab in person.


    When he arrived, two other students were just leaving. He immediately asked, "Is Ning Zhou inside?"


    "Yes."


    Li Jun had three students in total. The two replied promptly, "Are you looking for him? Should we call him out?"


    "No, I¡¯ll wait for him here. He wouldn¡¯t come out even if you called him now."


    The two students exchanged a glance but said nothing in front of Li Jun. Once outside, however, they couldn¡¯t help but vent their frustration on their advisor¡¯s behalf.


    "He¡¯s not even that impressive, yet he acts so arrogant, not even giving the professor face."


    "Exactly. I don¡¯t know what the professor sees in him. It¡¯s been so long, and he hasn¡¯t produced any results. Even the investors who used to support him have pulled out."


    "If he can¡¯t deliver results and has such a difficult personality, of course no one would keep funding him. But why do you think the professor came to see him? Is it about the funding project? Our professor is too good¡ªhow did he end up with a student like Ning Zhou?"


    "Enough, let¡¯s not gossip. If the professor doesn¡¯t mind, why should we? You could be furious, and Ning Zhou still wouldn¡¯t care. Better to focus on our own project. If we get selected, funding won¡¯t be an issue."


    Neither of them was the type to indulge in idle talk, so after a brief complaint, they redirected their attention to their joint project.


    Outside the lab, Li Jun flipped through some documents, waiting for over an hour before the door finally opened and a young man in standard lab attire stepped out.


    The youth glanced at Li Jun, who had been sitting on the hallway bench and now looked up at the sound, then walked past without a word.


    Li Jun, unfazed¡ªeven accustomed to this¡ªcalled out, "Ning Zhou, wait. I need to talk to you."


    Only then did the young man pause at the end of the hallway and turn back. "What is it?"


    Since Ning Zhou didn¡¯t approach, Li Jun had to stand and walk over. He reached out to pat his most promising¡ªyet most troublesome¡ªstudent¡¯s shoulder, but Ning Zhou sidestepped the gesture.


    Li Jun: "...Right, I forgot you don¡¯t like physical contact. Come to my office."


    Ning Zhou clearly had no intention of going. His complexion was pale from years spent indoors, and with his striking features, his displeasure was plain to see when he frowned.


    Not that Li Jun needed to see it¡ªNing Zhou stated bluntly:


    "I don¡¯t want to. I need to go back and write my experiment logs."


    He said it matter-of-factly, as if refusing his advisor¡¯s request was perfectly normal, and didn¡¯t wait for a response before turning to leave. But Li Jun grabbed him and pulled him back.


    "You little¡ªwhether you want to or not, you¡¯re coming. Now move it."


    Ning Zhou had never been athletic. From childhood, he¡¯d managed to skip PE classes thanks to his academic excellence and persistent requests. In other words, he was physically weak.


    And so, the weakling Ning Zhou was dragged all the way to Li Jun¡¯s office.


    He sat across the desk, visibly irritated, his entire posture radiating resistance.


    Li Jun shook his head helplessly. "You... Ah, fine. I know your time is precious, so let¡¯s get to the point. Why didn¡¯t you apply for the university¡¯s funding project?"


    "The materials you showed me before were excellent¡ªand clearly expensive. For a project like this, you should¡¯ve applied immediately. I already told Professor Wang you¡¯re submitting. Hurry up and gather the documents so I can send them in. There¡¯s a real chance you¡¯ll get selected."


    At this, Ning Zhou¡¯s expression faltered. His gaze dropped slightly.


    "The application requires a team of five. I invited others, but they refused."


    Li Jun: "..."


    Ah. He¡¯d forgotten about that.


    Students usually collaborated in groups for these projects¡ªespecially his own students. He¡¯d only ever heard of teams being too large, never struggling to find members.


    He coughed awkwardly. "Maybe they all wanted to be the team leader."


    "No."


    Ning Zhou shook his head and answered honestly, "They don''t like me, so they don¡¯t want to work with me."


    Li Jun: "...It¡¯s fine. You¡¯re smarter than them. You¡¯re worth two of them. I¡¯ll call other teachers and ask them to assign a few students to help you with the project proposal."


    Ning Zhou¡¯s gaze remained fixed on the ground, silent. Having mentored him for so long, Li Jun could tell he was feeling down.


    "Alright, don¡¯t be upset. Everyone has their own strengths. Yours is research. Social skills¡ªthose aren¡¯t necessary to learn."


    Mainly because Ning Zhou couldn¡¯t learn them anyway.


    A few seconds later, Ning Zhou, still staring at the ground, slowly shook his head. "Don¡¯t bother with the proposal. Even if we submit it, they¡¯ll reject me as soon as they see me."


    "Nonsense. How could that be? Don¡¯t overthink it."


    Ning Zhou looked up at his teacher. "You¡¯ve recommended me five times before. It was the same every time."


    "They won¡¯t trust me, and they won¡¯t invest in my project because it sounds like a fantasy. I¡¯m also not likable, and I can¡¯t manage a team."


    Li Jun fell silent for a long moment before finally saying,


    "Ning Zhou, you know this isn¡¯t your fault. You¡¯re just sick¡ªyou can¡¯t learn or understand most people¡¯s behavior patterns. And you¡¯re a genius. Geniuses are allowed to be different. The reason you haven¡¯t achieved results isn¡¯t because you¡¯re worse than others. It¡¯s because your goals are far more ambitious."


    "As a genius, you don¡¯t need to be likable, and you don¡¯t need to learn how to manage a team. All you need to do is keep doing what you¡¯re doing¡ªsteadily using your talent and working hard."


    This ?????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????was why Li Jun was so patient with this student. Ning Zhou had Asperger¡¯s syndrome, also known as the "genius disease," because it often appeared in highly intelligent individuals.


    The condition fell under the autism spectrum disorder and came with social interaction difficulties. While those affected had no intellectual or language impairments, they struggled to interpret body language, facial expressions, and subtle social cues.


    They often couldn¡¯t understand jokes, sarcasm, or double meanings. They weren¡¯t good at sports and approached social interactions in a rigid, textbook manner.


    To others, they seemed unempathetic, indifferent, rude, and cold¡ªwhich was why people with Asperger¡¯s were frequently isolated by their peers.


    Unlike autism, where individuals often had no desire for social connections, those with Asperger¡¯s usually longed for friendships. But it was like a curse¡ªthey were rejected by peers from childhood, growing up mostly friendless.


    If they were lucky, their families nurtured them. If not, they might even be treated as freaks at home.


    Ning Zhou¡¯s luck was mixed. When his parents noticed his symptoms, they didn¡¯t realize it was Asperger¡¯s. They simply thought they¡¯d given birth to a mentally ill child.


    With limited financial means, they didn¡¯t even take him for a diagnosis. Instead, they quickly decided to have a second child¡ªlike having a first child who was "defective," so they needed a second one to carry the family¡¯s hopes and eventually take care of the older sibling.


    The Ning parents¡¯ approach was harsh on both children, but in their minds, it was the best solution. After Ning Kang was born, they left both children with their grandparents and went to work in the city.


    In their logic, since their eldest was "disabled," they had to earn more money. While their younger child was growing up, resources would naturally go to her. But even after she became independent, they would keep working¡ªbecause they needed to ensure Ning Zhou had enough to live on for the rest of his life.


    If not for his sister Ning Kang also being a genius, Ning Zhou might have spent his entire life confined to a small rural room, silently poring over the few books he managed to collect.


    Ning Kang was three years younger. When she started learning to read, Ning Zhou followed along. She adored her brother, and after starting school, she taught him what she learned, solving problems together.


    When her teachers realized Ning Kang was a prodigy, they were thrilled. After being praised, little Ning Kang immediately understood that her brother¡ªoften called "slow" by villagers¡ªwas also a genius. She showed his work to her teacher.


    Eventually, the young teacher from the city visited their home. After testing Ning Zhou, she confidently told the grandparents that he, like his sister, was a genius.


    The whole village was stunned. Even Ning Zhou¡¯s parents rushed back, gritted their teeth, and followed the teacher¡¯s advice to take him to the city for an evaluation.


    Only then did they learn that Ning Zhou wasn¡¯t "slow"¡ªhe had Asperger¡¯s, and his intelligence was as exceptional as his sister¡¯s.


    His social skills, however, were nearly nonexistent.


    From that point on, Ning Zhou was finally allowed to attend school.


    Li Jun learned all this from Ning Kang. The school administration was also aware.


    But after Ning Zhou faced severe bullying and whispers in middle school when his condition was revealed, the information was kept confidential from other students.


    For Ning Zhou, it was better if people simply saw him as eccentric and hard to get along with¡ªat least then they¡¯d dislike him from the start.


    It was worse when others approached him out of curiosity, only to grow frustrated and leave, often with insults and attacks in their wake.


    So when Li Jun wanted to secure an opportunity for Ning Zhou, he first asked for his opinion:


    "This chance is truly rare. If you¡¯re willing, I can explain your situation to President Sheng. From what Professor Wang said, she¡¯s young and open-minded. Since she specifically asked about you, she must be interested."


    "You can¡¯t keep cutting corners to pursue your ideas. You can skimp on other things, but not research. Poor materials, accumulated over time, can cost lives."


    Ning Zhou looked at Li Jun. His dark pupils, almost childlike, held a stubborn glint. After a second, he lowered his head again.


    "I¡¯ve tried. They just give up on me faster."


    Li Jun sighed and gently patted Ning Zhou¡¯s shoulder. This time, Ning Zhou didn¡¯t pull away¡ªmaybe he needed the comfort.


    "You still have to try. How else will you know? Maybe this time will be different."


    Li Jun made the decision. "Alright, you stubborn kid, go prepare your materials. I¡¯ll submit them. My reputation still carries some weight¡ªPresident Sheng should be willing to meet me."


    Ning Zhou lifted his arm and sniffed it, then retorted seriously, "I¡¯m not smelly. I shower every day."


    Li Jun couldn''t help but laugh: "Alright, alright, you rascal, go on then."


    Ning Zhou nodded in agreement and stepped outside, walking along his usual route.


    Every step had to land within the school¡¯s brick paths, close to the edge of the road. He had to keep his eyes on his surroundings and avoid getting lost in thought¡ªhabits drilled into him since childhood by his family.


    People with Asperger¡¯s syndrome rarely change their routines.


    But this time, as Ning Zhou walked, his path was blocked by a plump cat licking its fur on the bricks. In a university where students often fed strays, cats like this one reigned supreme as the unofficial rulers of C University.


    Most people would either step around it, walk straight past, or even stop to pet the cat.


    But Ning Zhou? The chubby tabby refused to budge, so he didn¡¯t either. He just stood there, waiting as the cat leisurely groomed itself in the sunlight.


    He maintained this distance for a good ten minutes, but the cat showed no sign of moving. Ning Zhou glanced at his watch.


    Growing anxious, he stared at the smug feline, opening his mouth, then closing it, then opening it again.


    Just as fine beads of sweat formed on his forehead, a voice called out from ahead:


    "Here, kitty, kitty~ Come here, kitty~"


    It seemed every cat in China answered to "kitty." The fat cat perked up at the sound, rolled over with surprising agility, and trotted toward the voice, eagerly accepting the freshly opened cat treat being offered.


    In return for this human¡¯s tribute, the cat generously allowed her to tentatively stroke its head while purring loudly.


    With the path now clear, Ning Zhou exhaled in relief and resumed his measured steps forward.


    Then the young woman ahead called out to him: "You¡¯re Ning Zhou, right? I¡¯ve seen your photo before."


    His progress halted again. Ning Zhou wanted to ignore her, but since she was smiling, he hesitated before stopping. "Yes. I¡¯m Ning Zhou."


    Most people might have followed up with, "Where did you see my photo?" But Ning Zhou¡¯s response was just that¡ªan answer, nothing more. After speaking, he prepared to keep walking.


    But the girl stood up, still smiling, and introduced herself: "I¡¯m Sheng Quan. Nice to meet you."


    She glanced down at the cat, still devouring its snack, her eyes crinkling into crescent moons¡ªa smile Ning Zhou had learned to recognize as genuinely friendly.


    "I was watching from the convenience store up ahead for a few minutes. Did it block your way? It looked like you were waiting for it to move."


    Ning Zhou replied stiffly, "Mm."


    The girl laughed again¡ªnot the mocking or awkward laughter he was used to, but that same warm, crescent-eyed smile. His gaze lingered on her expression as she said:


    "You¡¯re very polite."


    Not "You¡¯re weird," or "What a freak," but a compliment.


    Ning Zhou blinked, unsure how to respond.


    The cat, having finished its treat, mewed sweetly and rubbed against Sheng Quan¡¯s legs, angling for more. She crouched down and ruffled its fluffy head.


    "Kitty, he gave you the right of way. Shouldn¡¯t you say thank you?"


    The cat played along, letting out a sugary meow in Ning Zhou¡¯s direction, as if actually expressing gratitude.


    Sheng Quan and the cat both looked up at him.


    Under their gaze, Ning Zhou paused. His fair, delicate features tensed slightly before his lips finally parted, and he uttered three quiet words:


    "You¡¯re welcome."

 Chapter 59

    After Ning Zhou said "you''re welcome," there was nothing more.


    In his understanding, that marked the end of the conversation.


    The young man continued walking in silence, each step measured with precision, tracing a perfectly straight line.


    Sheng Quan stroked the fat cat¡¯s head, watching his figure gradually recede into the distance.


    When turning the corner, Ning Zhou glanced subtly at Sheng Quan before quickly averting his gaze.


    Jiang Lu, standing behind her, also looked over briefly before withdrawing his attention, as usual offering no comment.


    Sheng Quan¡¯s presence here was no coincidence¡ªthere weren¡¯t that many serendipitous encounters in the world.


    She had heard from Teacher Wang that Ning Zhou¡¯s lab was in this area, so she wandered over, hoping to bump into him.


    After all, it was almost lunchtime, and the cafeteria was just ahead. Even a genius like Ning Zhou might step out for a meal, right?


    Even if he didn¡¯t appear, basking in the sunlight on C University¡¯s lush lawn was pleasant enough.


    After nearly half an hour of sunbathing, she actually did spot Ning Zhou.


    And she even witnessed the standoff between him and the fat cat¡ªten minutes of silent confrontation before Sheng Quan finally caved and bought a cat treat from the convenience store.


    ¡ªThe fat cat emerged as the ultimate winner.


    Sheng Quan met Ning Zhou¡¯s advisor that very same day.


    These past few days had been filled with more professor introductions than she¡¯d ever experienced. Almost daily, advisors came by, eager to recommend their students¡ªsome, like Professor Li Jun, got straight to the point, while others dropped only a hint or two.


    Though they secretly hoped Sheng Quan would take one look at their students¡¯ projects and immediately declare them brilliant, slamming the table with a resounding "I¡¯ll fund it!"


    But ?????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????they knew better. Their real goal was simply to leave an impression, ensuring the big boss remembered their students or projects with some interest.


    Ning Zhou¡¯s advisor had a different request.


    His sole purpose: to ensure the boss wouldn¡¯t exclude Ning Zhou from fair competition because of his condition.


    Professor Li Jun was well-known even beyond campus.


    As a prominent advisor, he was well-versed in the art of securing funding for his students. Not only did he personally deliver the materials, but he also launched into a stream of technical jargon, singing praises.


    Of course, he knew Sheng Quan, a non-specialist, likely wouldn¡¯t understand¡ªbut years of experience had taught him that corporate bosses ate this stuff up.


    They didn¡¯t need to comprehend it; they just needed to hear it sound impressive.


    After the highbrow pitch, Professor Li Jun circled back with a simpler explanation.


    Then came the accolades for Ning Zhou¡ªhis sky-high IQ, his stellar academic record, his terrifying talent.


    Finally, he handed over Ning Zhou¡¯s diagnostic report.


    The moment Sheng Quan saw the words "Asperger¡¯s Syndrome," everything clicked.


    Her brief interaction with Ning Zhou had already hinted at why, in the original story, such a genius had been forced to cut corners with subpar materials just to keep his project afloat.


    Securing substantial research funding was tough for students, but for prodigies, it shouldn¡¯t have been this dire. In today¡¯s environment, they might not strike gold overnight, but they shouldn¡¯t be struggling to the point of compromising their health.


    Research grants could be applied for through the university or via corporate partnerships, and advisors usually helped facilitate this.


    Even for challenging projects, there should¡¯ve been some funding source.


    Unless... they believed Ning Zhou couldn¡¯t be trusted to manage it.


    Maybe they¡¯d considered the "what if," but when faced with a major financial commitment, no one was willing to gamble on that uncertainty¡ªespecially when Ning Zhou hadn¡¯t yet produced any groundbreaking results.


    Professor Li Jun clearly understood this. Ning Zhou still had some university support thanks to his student status and his advisor¡¯s backing.


    But corporate partnerships? The moment they learned of his condition, interest evaporated.


    So while he¡¯d confidently assured Ning Zhou, facing Sheng Quan, he had zero confidence.


    Outwardly composed, inwardly anxious, he stole a glance at her¡ªbut found none of the usual wariness on the young boss¡¯s face.


    Sheng Quan finished reading the report.


    Without dragging it out or demanding to "meet Ning Zhou first," she set the papers down and agreed outright.


    "I¡¯m very interested in this project. Funding won¡¯t be an issue. The timeline... while lengthy, is understandable¡ªit¡¯s research, after all. Though there are some details to iron out."


    Professor Li Jun: "..."


    He froze for two full seconds before it hit him.


    She was saying yes?


    This project¡¯s estimated budget was five million.


    Five. Million. Even he hadn¡¯t secured that much funding for his own projects so effortlessly.


    Yet to Sheng Quan, it was just "no problem."


    Professor Li Jun was usually unflappable¡ªunless his student just landed five million in research funding.


    Overwhelming joy nearly drowned him. This was better than securing the funds himself.


    "Name your terms. We¡¯ll accommodate however we can."


    Such collaborations always came with conditions, and he was prepared.


    That was normal¡ªcorporations didn¡¯t fund university research out of charity. They wanted commercially viable results.


    He¡¯d already decided: whatever Sheng Quan asked, if it was feasible, they¡¯d do it.


    Even if Ning Zhou couldn¡¯t manage certain tasks, he¡¯d step in.


    What were advisors for, if not to help their students?


    Sheng Quan smiled. "I have a film in pre-production that may require technical input from Ning Zhou¡¯s lab. It tangentially relates to his research."


    She handed Professor Li Jun the production¡¯s materials.


    "The movie involves futuristic tech. While most will be CGI, we need some physical props for authenticity¡ªpreferably from Ning Zhou¡¯s lab."


    Li Jun skimmed the documents, eyebrows lifting.


    Of course. No free lunch. Even braced for demands, the sheer volume of additional requests was staggering.


    Was this a movie set or a futuristic city construction?


    Five million wouldn¡¯t come easy. Agreeing to all this would still leave Ning Zhou scrimping to keep his main project alive.


    Hesitantly, he probed:


    "If we want to achieve all the effects described above, a budget of five million is very likely insufficient."


    Of course, this was said while calculating how to persuade Sheng Quan to increase the funding.


    At the very least, an extra five hundred thousand would be ideal.


    If that wasn¡¯t possible, even three hundred thousand more would do. After all, it wasn¡¯t easy to come across such a generous investor, even if the accompanying conditions were a bit demanding. He couldn¡¯t let this opportunity slip away.


    Just as he was organizing his words, Sheng Quan, sitting across from him, responded, "You might have misunderstood. The budget I plan to allocate for this project isn¡¯t five million."


    Li Jun: "..."


    What did she mean, it wasn¡¯t five million? The project proposal clearly stated an estimated cost of five million.


    He had distinctly heard Sheng Quan say funding wouldn¡¯t be an issue!


    How could she go back on her word now?


    If it were just the main project, fine, but with so many additional requirements, even if Ning Zhou was still a student, you couldn¡¯t exploit him like this. He was smart, a genius¡ªbut not a god!


    Li Jun frantically reminded himself in his head: This is the only investor willing to back our student. Others can afford to be picky, but we only have this one chance. Stay calm, don¡¯t mess this up.


    After steadying himself, he carefully rephrased his words:


    "I think I should explain¡ªthese additional tasks are far too numerous and complex, covering a very broad scope. Even if I were to take them on myself, the difficulty would be immense. Five million is already stretching it."


    At this point, he wasn¡¯t even asking for more money.


    Just don¡¯t reduce it!


    "Exactly," Sheng Quan agreed, nodding¡ªnot to bargain, as he¡¯d expected, but with genuine understanding.


    "With such a long project cycle, five million is indeed too tight. So, I plan to invest fifty million upfront."


    Li Jun: "..."


    How... how much?!


    Fifty million?!!!!!!!!


    Despite his lifelong composure, he could feel his body trembling with excitement.


    But Professor Li Jun was, after all, a renowned mentor at C University. Even at this critical moment, he remembered the rumors that the "big boss had returned from abroad." Suppressing the shake in his voice, he asked:


    "That¡¯s... fifty million RMB?"


    "Of course. It¡¯ll all be written into the contract," Sheng Quan replied with a smile, then suddenly remembered something. "Ah, you mentioned earlier that the additional tasks are too difficult? And too numerous? Is there any way to overcome that? Our production team really needs them all¡ªit¡¯s hard to choose which to drop."


    "Yes! Absolutely!"


    "We won¡¯t abandon a single one!"


    Professor Li Jun answered with lightning speed. If the situation allowed, he would¡¯ve gladly grafted eight extra arms onto Ning Zhou to prove his student could handle it all.


    "He can start the project immediately. I guarantee the team won¡¯t have fewer than fifty members."


    With fifty million in funding, even five hundred people wouldn¡¯t be a problem for Li Jun to assemble. As for Ning Zhou¡¯s inability to communicate well with the team?


    At C University, where everyone was a funding-hungry workaholic, fifty million was enough to make them all see stars.


    So what if the project leader had zero social skills and zero emotional intelligence?


    Was that more important than fifty million?!!


    No!


    Even funding exceeding ten million would have students across the country scrambling to join.


    If the leader were a fat cat, these adaptable university students would still cheerfully praise it without batting an eye:


    Fat cat is great! Fat cat is amazing! Fat cat, we salute your hard work!


    The sudden turn of events, the unexpected breakthrough¡ªevery problem dissolved instantly in the face of fifty million.


    Li Jun no longer had to worry about his most talented student being held back by the limitations of his congenital condition.


    He was already envisioning Ning Zhou diving into research, achieving groundbreaking results, soaring to new heights, being recruited by national departments, and dedicating his brilliance to serving the country.


    Sheng Quan¡¯s vision wasn¡¯t far off, though hers was even more imaginative.


    While she didn¡¯t understand the technicalities, based on the timeline in the novel, Ning Zhou had earned such high praise from experts after just two years of national service¡ªtreated like a priceless treasure¡ªwhich meant he must¡¯ve accomplished something extraordinary.


    If he could achieve so much in two years, now that he hadn¡¯t even officially started his project and his health hadn¡¯t deteriorated, wouldn¡¯t he¡ªunhindered by premature setbacks¡ªsurprise everyone even more?


    Maybe, in her lifetime, she¡¯d get to experience the kind of futuristic, tech-driven life described in novels.


    Just imagining it made Sheng Quan giddy with excitement.


    Of course, the immediate priority was ensuring Ning Zhou¡¯s health. In hindsight, winning that Aihe Hospital membership had been incredibly useful.


    At a glance, Ning Zhou¡¯s condition didn¡¯t seem much better.


    Sheng Quan checked the time on her phone.


    "If Ning Zhou has no objections, we can sign the contract now. But it¡¯s getting late¡ªhas he already gone to bed? Should we wait until tomorrow?"


    Li Jun answered instantly: "He¡¯s not asleep! Definitely not. I¡¯ll bring him here right away. Just wait a moment¡ªI¡¯ll fetch Ning Zhou immediately."


    Even if Ning Zhou were asleep, Li Jun would drag him out of bed to sign the contract first.


    If he didn¡¯t see this golden opportunity secured, he¡¯d be lying awake all night!


    True to his reputation, Teacher Li moved with lightning speed and soon returned with Ning Zhou in tow.


    When Ning Zhou followed Li Jun into the room, his gaze immediately landed on Sheng Quan, seated on the sofa.


    He showed no surprise at his teacher¡¯s respectful address, nor did he react like others who¡¯d been taken aback by Sheng Quan¡¯s youth upon learning she was the big boss.


    Ning Zhou did desperately want that fifty million in funding.


    But after sitting across from Sheng Quan, he still asked earnestly:


    "Now that you¡¯ve seen me, do you still agree to work with me?"


    Li Jun, who had just cheerfully taken a seat beside Teacher Wang and the others: "..."


    He knew it wasn¡¯t Ning Zhou¡¯s fault¡ªthe concept of "sign the contract before they change their mind" simply didn¡¯t register with him.


    The question was purely an expression of doubt.


    Fortunately, Chairwoman Sheng showed no intention of withdrawing her offer. She picked up the documents on the table and waved them at Ning Zhou.


    "First, I have great faith in your project. I believe you¡¯re a genius."


    "Second, why would you think I¡¯d refuse to collaborate after meeting you?"


    When praised, Ning Zhou¡¯s lashes¡ªthicker than most boys his age¡ªfluttered slightly.


    He liked being called a genius because, in his experience, once people labeled him as one, they no longer got upset over his words or actions.


    But this "genius effect" had faded after he entered university. Especially when he spent years fixated on a single theoretical concept.


    Ning Zhou answered honestly:


    "Today, you saw me walk."


    Li Jun was terrified that something might go wrong. His heart nearly stopped when he heard this: "What do you mean, walking? Have you encountered this before?"


    Ning Zhou wasn¡¯t one to lie. When his teacher asked, he obediently replied, "At noon, when I was going back to the dorm, a cat blocked my way. She saw it."


    Li Jun: "..."


    His heart really was about to give out.


    As the person most familiar with Ning Zhou in the entire school, he knew exactly what Ning Zhou was talking about.


    Ning Zhou had encountered situations like this many times before.


    Sometimes it was a cat, sometimes a bird, and sometimes even a branch blown by the wind¡ªsomething that could easily be stepped over¡ªwould block his usual path.


    To ordinary people, it was nothing worth mentioning, but for Ning Zhou, who was accustomed to walking the same route every day, it felt like an insurmountable chasm.


    Every time, his reaction was the same as during the day: either spend an agonizingly long time mustering the courage to cross, or wait for the obstacle to move on its own.


    To others, this behavior of his was nothing short of bizarre.


    Even though Sheng Quan already knew about Ning Zhou¡¯s condition, now that she had witnessed it, would she think, "If he can¡¯t even walk properly, how can he be trusted with serious research?"


    Would the contract still be signed?!


    Li Jun didn¡¯t even dare to think about it.


    Just as he was wishing he could go back in time to erase the entire incident, Sheng Quan moved.


    She picked up the pen and signed her name on the contract, stroke by stroke.


    At that moment, the heavy stone weighing on the hearts of all the teachers in the room finally dropped.


    Compared to their emotional rollercoaster, the two people directly involved were the calmest of all.


    Ning Zhou simply didn¡¯t understand what was happening.


    Sheng Quan simply didn¡¯t care.


    While Teacher Li was busy gathering people, she had quickly looked it up on Baidu and learned that when speaking to someone with "genius syndrome," it was best to be direct (otherwise, they wouldn¡¯t understand). After signing her name, she looked straight at Ning Zhou.


    "Can you complete this project within five years?"


    Ning Zhou didn¡¯t hesitate for even a second. When it came to his field of expertise, his gaze instantly became unwavering, as if he had transformed from a timid stray cat into a radiant tiger in the blink of an eye.


    He even met Sheng Quan¡¯s eyes directly, his dark, clear pupils filled with determination:


    "I can."


    "Good. I believe in you."


    Hearing Sheng Quan¡¯s equally firm response, Ning Zhou froze.


    She said... she believed in him?


    It wasn¡¯t an exaggeration to say that his entire being seemed to light up. But the moment he got excited, his speech stumbled again. The tiger-like aura lasted only about ten seconds before deflating.


    Still, his eyes remained bright, like a stray cat that had always been shunned suddenly realizing it could beg for food¡ªso happy it couldn¡¯t hide it.


    "Th-thank you."


    So happy he even stuttered a little.


    Damn, that¡¯s kinda cute.


    As expected, straightforward praise brings straightforward joy.


    Sheng Quan wanted to pat Ning Zhou¡¯s shoulder (or better yet, ruffle his hair), but remembering what she¡¯d read¡ªthat many people with Asperger¡¯s disliked physical contact¡ªshe forced herself to hold back.


    Unable to pat his shoulder, Boss Sheng smoothly switched to verbal encouragement instead:


    "Just focus on your work. If you need anything, tell me, and I¡¯ll get it for you. Your teacher already told me¡ªyou¡¯re a genius. All you need to do is concentrate on your research. Leave the rest to me; I¡¯ll arrange everything."


    She turned to look at Li Jun, who was still stuck in the mindset of "It¡¯s signed? Just like that?" The teacher hurriedly nodded.


    "Yes, yes. Ning Zhou, from now on, listen to Director Sheng and do your best, understand?"


    The other teachers also breathed a sigh of relief. They had almost thought the contract wouldn¡¯t be signed. Thankfully, Director Sheng was as generous as expected¡ªno, no, as broad-minded as expected.


    With a student securing such a massive research collaboration, the school couldn¡¯t just stand by without contributing. They immediately assured her:


    "Don¡¯t worry, this project is very important to our school as well. We¡¯ll do our best to adjust lab schedules to give these young researchers the space they need to excel."


    Sheng Quan had only announced the project selection a few days ago, and already, one had been chosen for a 50-million-yuan investment.


    Even C University was thrilled!


    Even if this project hadn¡¯t been high-priority before, its status was instantly elevated.


    Sheng Quan paused for a second, taking a quick glance at her lottery page:


    "No rush on that. We can discuss it later."


    [006, bind Ning Zhou.]


    006 happily completed the binding and asked, [Host, want to try the lottery?]


    Sheng Quan: [After we finish here.]


    She had noticed that ever since the system unbinding, perhaps because 006 subconsciously wanted to help, the lottery page sometimes shifted based on her strong desires.


    For example, the last time she opened it¡ªwhen she was hungry in the middle of the night but too lazy to get up¡ªshe saw a bunch of instant noodle factories.


    Lately, after reading so much about research, the options had mostly been research-related.


    And so, Director Sheng had a bold idea.


    She decided to go home and stare at a bunch of pictures.


    Research was expensive. Sure, she wasn¡¯t short on funds, but if she could get something for free, why not?


    The next day, Teacher Wang called to discuss some details from the school¡¯s side.


    "No need to prepare a lab," Sheng Quan said cheerfully, an eye mask on (her eyes hurt from staring at pictures).


    "I just bought them a new one."


    Teacher Wang wasn¡¯t too surprised. Labs were expensive for ordinary people, but for someone like Sheng Quan, who could casually drop 50 million, it was probably nothing.


    If she could spend that much, shelling out a few hundred thousand for a small lab wasn¡¯t unusual. Students had done it before¡ªsome even started private research institutes. Sure, they were small-scale, but for students, it was impressive.


    Though Sheng Quan was wealthier, so maybe hers would be a bit bigger.


    Teacher Wang had been perfectly calm.


    Until he and a few other teachers were invited by Sheng Quan to "take a look and offer guidance" on her newly purchased lab.


    Before going, he had chuckled and said, "Let¡¯s be encouraging. Even if it¡¯s a small lab, it¡¯ll still save a lot of trouble."


    The other teachers naturally agreed.


    Then they found themselves standing before a massive, architecturally striking building.


    Sheng Quan waited at the entrance, greeting them with a smile:


    "Welcome! I don¡¯t know much about these things, so I¡¯d appreciate your input. Do you think this lab suits Ning Zhou and the others?"


    The group: "..."


    They stared at the guarded gate, the clearly visible parking spaces inside, and the sheer scale of the place¡ªeven without stepping in, they could already imagine the quantity and quality of the equipment.


    Their gazes slowly turned to Teacher Wang, who looked just as stunned: "..."


    You call this a small lab?!!

 Chapter 60

    The size of laboratories can naturally vary, but what stood before everyone now was more akin to a research institute than just a lab.


    It wasn¡¯t that Teacher Wang was arbitrarily redefining it, but rather...


    He looked up at the massive plaque above the entrance, where the words were neatly inscribed:


    [Youli Tengfei Research Institute]


    Sheng Quan noticed their gazes and explained, "The plaque hasn¡¯t been replaced yet. It should be done by this afternoon."


    The teachers: "..."


    Youli Tengfei was somewhat well-known in the industry, and in recent years, rumors had spread about its massive financial losses. The major investor backing it had also run into funding issues, leading to the decision to sell the institute.


    The news of the sale had been announced, but whether anyone would buy it was another matter.


    Just two days ago, a couple of teachers had been gossiping about it.


    And now, here they were, standing right in front of it.


    This research institute had actually been bought by Sheng Quan.


    And it was all for the sake of a project led by one of their university¡¯s students.


    Sheng Quan led the teachers forward, accompanied by a guide and her five bodyguards¡ªsix, if you counted Brother Jiang.


    She hadn¡¯t been too surprised when she won this institute in the prize draw.


    After all, through her relentless efforts to condition herself with the mantra "I need a lab, I need a lab," the prize pool had only offered three options. Winning this institute had been a one-in-three chance.


    It wasn¡¯t that Sheng Quan hadn¡¯t considered more options¡ªit was just that the prizes in the pool were all guaranteed to be purchasable in her name immediately upon winning.


    Research-related labs were rarely sold unless the owners were relocating or had completely given up.


    There were plenty of small, struggling labs, but the prize pool had a minimum financial threshold, especially since her own career achievements were factored into the criteria, raising the bar even higher.


    The massive exposure from The Cultivator had gradually stabilized, but Starlight Entertainment was steadily growing, with all its artists on an upward trajectory, even if none had skyrocketed to fame yet.


    Combined with the career progress of the individuals she had sponsored, Sheng Quan estimated that the current prize pool only included items worth at least ten million yuan.


    For example, the last time she¡¯d gotten hungry late at night, the instant noodle factory in the prize pool had definitely been worth over ten million.


    And in the domestic research landscape, ten million yuan was a significant dividing line.


    Below that threshold, labs could be as cheap as tens of thousands, with the pricier ones reaching hundreds of thousands¡ªthe cheaper they were, the more abundant.


    Above ten million, though...


    Take this research institute, for instance. Just the construction costs alone likely exceeded ten million.


    Not to mention the bulk of the expense¡ªthe cutting-edge research equipment. Sheng Quan was seeing it for the first time herself, but judging by the teachers¡¯ reactions, these instruments were not only top-tier but also fully functional.


    006 really was reliable.


    Sheng Quan let out a sigh of relief. She hadn¡¯t meant to show off in front of Teacher Wang¡ªshe¡¯d originally envisioned a simple lab, but who knew the prize pool would offer three full-fledged research institutes?


    But strictly speaking, a research institute was even better than a lab.


    [006, thanks.]


    006, suddenly praised, wanted to say it hadn¡¯t pulled any strings¡ªbut then it remembered how much it had wanted Sheng Quan to succeed and felt a twinge of guilt.


    Still, it quickly justified itself.


    Sheng Quan had been funding talented individuals nonstop. In just over a year, she¡¯d helped so many people¡ªwhat was wrong with a little favoritism?


    "This institute has always been quite renowned, though I¡¯ve never visited before. It¡¯s really..."


    Sheng Quan hadn¡¯t invited the teachers randomly. While she didn¡¯t know much about research herself, she knew who to ask. Over the past few days, she¡¯d visited C University daily, and each time, one or two teachers would recommend their students.


    By now, she was practically familiar with most of them.


    When it came to evaluating a "lab," these teachers were even more suitable than veteran experts. After all, experts at that level usually focused solely on their work and didn¡¯t bother with trivial matters.


    But these teachers¡ªsome mentored students, some handled equipment procurement, some spent years in labs. Together, they were practically an unstoppable team.


    Teacher Liu cautiously approached a set of instruments in one of the labs.


    "Wow, this set alone costs over three million. And there are five sets here¡ªno wonder this lab is so spacious."


    "Three million is nothing. Did you see the one in the previous lab? Seven million per set. Our university only has one, and everyone has to queue up to use it. Here, there are two!"


    Their definition of a "set" wasn¡¯t a single piece but rather a collection of dozens of instruments. C University had similar equipment¡ªafter all, it was known for splurging on research tools.


    But this institute lacked the deep-rooted resources of C University, and as the teachers went through their checklist, they did identify a few high-end instruments missing here.


    That didn¡¯t mean it was inferior to C University¡¯s labs, though.


    Keep in mind¡ªC University¡¯s equipment had to serve the entire campus.


    This research institute, with its numerous labs and vast array of instruments, was dedicated solely to Ning Zhou¡¯s project.


    And with an estimated team of just fifty people¡ªwhere a university setting might feel cramped¡ªhere, in this sprawling institute...


    They could use any lab they wanted, anytime.


    Any instrument, ready at a moment¡¯s notice.


    This was practically every researcher¡¯s dream.


    The teachers marveled as they carefully inspected everything, nodding in admiration¡ªonly to feel a pang of envy soon after.


    None of them had access to such ideal conditions.


    Sure, there were areas where their university still outshone this place, but that didn¡¯t stop the longing.


    Then, Sheng Quan took the list of missing equipment they¡¯d compiled, glanced at it, and handed it to her secretary.


    "Thank you, everyone. I¡¯ll make sure these are acquired as quickly as possible."


    The teachers: "..."


    Great. Now even the one area where C University had the advantage was about to be matched.


    Sheng Quan continued earnestly, "But since these need to be imported, it might take a while. Will that delay Ning Zhou¡¯s project?"


    "No, those aren¡¯t critical in the early stages," the teachers replied, envy aside.


    After answering, Teacher Wang couldn¡¯t resist asking, "Ms. Sheng, are you really dedicating this entire institute just to Ning Zhou¡¯s team?"


    The struggles of Youli Tengfei were common knowledge¡ªresearch institutes burned money, and scientific pursuits demanded constant upgrades, requiring endless investment in new equipment.


    Private research institutes without government support are even harder to sustain. I heard this one has been operating at a loss for quite some time, so it¡¯s understandable that they¡¯re selling it off now to cut their losses.


    But even as a distressed sale, with all the equipment and instruments still here and such a large space, how much cheaper could it really get?


    Even without factoring in electricity and maintenance costs, the expenses are already sky-high. Add to that the 50 million yuan project funding, and it¡¯s only accommodating a little over fifty researchers.


    Isn¡¯t that a bit too extravagant??


    "Of course, it won¡¯t always be just these fifty-some researchers," Sheng Quan said.


    She couldn¡¯t exactly admit, "I really just wanted to set up a small lab at first¡ªwho knew it would blow up like this? Now I¡¯m stuck in this situation too."


    Instead, she flashed a smile that said, "Everything is under control":


    "For now, we¡¯re prioritizing Ning Zhou and his team. This is my first time being involved in a project like this, and since I¡¯m not a professional, I can¡¯t contribute much to the actual research. The least I can do is provide them with the best possible environment."


    What a dream client.


    No micromanaging, no pointless chatter¡ªjust fully funded, fully equipped support. Even the professors, who¡¯d witnessed countless university-industry collaborations, had never encountered anything like this.


    Forget the students¡ªeven they were itching to sign up.


    But they didn¡¯t even need to ask. Sheng Quan had already made the offer:


    "I also want to thank all of you for taking the time to help me inspect these instruments. Earlier, I heard some of you mention that important equipment at the university might have long waiting lists. So, if you don¡¯t mind, feel free to use this lab whenever you need in the future."


    Talk about a windfall!


    They hadn¡¯t minded sparing some time to help Sheng Quan evaluate the lab¡ªit wasn¡¯t far, and with two of her projects still unassigned, the professors had all been hoping to get their students noticed.


    But now, they were getting an unexpected bonus!


    They exchanged glances, torn between accepting immediately or politely demurring first.


    Sheng Quan didn¡¯t give them time to hesitate. She continued:


    "This place might not compare to the university, but we¡¯ve got plenty of lab space, and the instruments are readily available. Of course, I do have a small selfish motive¡ªNing Zhou and the others are still students. If you could drop by occasionally, you might be able to offer them some guidance."


    With both face and benefits handed to them, the professors happily agreed without further protest.


    This trip had been more than worth it!


    Precisely because they were the kind of professors Sheng Quan had handpicked¡ªthose deeply passionate about research¡ªthey understood just how rare an opportunity this was.


    Though none of them said it aloud, each silently resolved to teach those lucky students a thing or two whenever they came to use the lab.


    It was the least they could do to repay Director Sheng.


    Speaking of students...


    "When will the students working on this project move in? Should be in the next couple of days, right? Have they seen the place yet?"


    "No." Sheng Quan smiled. "I wanted to surprise them."


    It felt nice, like preparing a gift.


    "Besides, the project members haven¡¯t been finalized yet. It might take a few days just to settle on the team size."


    So the roster wasn¡¯t set? Some of the professors with students of their own were already scheming ways to squeeze them into the project.


    Massive funding. A spacious, well-equipped institute. Top-tier, high-precision instruments.


    This was a once-in-a-decade opportunity!


    If it hadn¡¯t been explicitly labeled a student project from the start, they¡¯d have been fighting to join themselves.


    As for whether the students would be willing? With a project like this, only a fool would say no!


    When it came to Ning Zhou recruiting project members, his advisor, Li Jun, naturally took charge.


    He didn¡¯t just scout other students¡ªhe also called in two of his own and told them to join Ning Zhou¡¯s team.


    The two students¡¯ eyes nearly popped out of their heads. "Professor?! What are you talking about?! We have our own project! Why would we join Ning Zhou¡¯s?!"


    If Li Jun¡¯s feelings toward Ning Zhou oscillated between exasperation and pride before swiftly tipping back into exasperation, then with these two knuckleheads, he was perpetually on the verge of a vein-popping outburst.


    "You two have the nerve to ask. Three days in, and you¡¯ve already switched projects eight times. In all my years of teaching, I¡¯ve never had students as unreliable as you two. Scatterbrained, half-hearted¡ªjust look at what you handed in last time. A complete rush job. I¡¯m almost embarrassed to admit I taught you..."


    He ?????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????was about to launch into his usual scathing critique when he remembered the matter at hand and quickly reeled himself back in, forcing a warm smile.


    "Ning Zhou is still your junior. I know his personality has its... quirks, and you three don¡¯t get along perfectly. But deep down, you¡¯re all good kids. And I¡¯m sending you there for your own good."


    "Quirks? He doesn¡¯t just have quirks¡ªhe straight-up looks down on people!" The two students immediately bristled.


    This was exactly why Li Jun usually stayed out of their dynamics. These two might be a bit dense, but they were decent at heart.


    They had solid personalities. Sure, Li Jun chewed them out often, but that was only because they were so unreliable¡ªtheir skills were never in question.


    Back when Ning Zhou first became Li Jun¡¯s student, the two had eagerly brought snacks to welcome their new junior, only for Ning Zhou to say he didn¡¯t like that kind of food.


    Most people would¡¯ve taken offense, but the very next day, they showed up again with drinks¡ªwhich Ning Zhou refused, saying he didn¡¯t accept beverages from others.


    Their well-meaning interpretation: "Sure, there was that poisoning case at the neighboring university, but you don¡¯t have to be this paranoid with us, do you?"


    And just like that, a one-sided grudge was born.


    The funny thing was, these two never stopped grumbling about Ning Zhou¡ªthis wasn¡¯t right, that wasn¡¯t right¡ªyet whenever Ning Zhou ran into trouble during work, they¡¯d clam up and step in to help without a word.


    Ning Zhou being disrespectful to the professor (in their eyes)? They¡¯d sulk.


    Ning Zhou being unfriendly to them (again, their perspective)? They¡¯d sulk harder.


    But they helped every single time, their justification being, "The professor told us to look after our junior, so we¡¯ll help even if we¡¯re annoyed."


    Li Jun had initially tried to clear up the misunderstandings, but new ones cropped up faster than he could explain them. Seeing that Ning Zhou didn¡¯t seem bothered, he¡¯d eventually given up and let their bizarre relationship run its course.


    But after witnessing how Ning Zhou¡¯s eyes had lit up the moment Sheng Quan praised him last time, Li Jun couldn¡¯t help but reflect.


    Maybe Ning Zhou only seemed indifferent to his seniors¡¯ dislike.


    Just like how he¡¯d appeared completely unfazed after those five rejections¡ªyet he¡¯d remembered every single one.


    He remembered that they didn¡¯t like him.


    And soon, Ning Zhou would be leaving his mentor to become an independent project leader.


    To be honest, Li Jun wasn¡¯t entirely at ease.


    After a night of careful consideration, he came up with a brilliant idea¡ªhave all three students leave together.


    "Why should we all go together? Even if we do, he should be the one joining us. His project has been in the works for years¡ªwhat¡¯s so great about it? No one¡¯s even investing in it."


    "Unlike ours¡ªsure, it¡¯s changed direction a bit quickly, but Teacher, I¡¯m telling you, I¡¯m confident I can secure funding."


    The eldest senior brother was smug, mysteriously holding up a number with his fingers: "Someone¡¯s willing to invest fifty grand in me. Otherwise, I wouldn¡¯t have switched to this project."


    "Yeah, we thought about it, and that billion-yuan fund is way too competitive¡ªno way we¡¯d get it. Might as well go for this fifty grand," the second senior brother chimed in.


    The two were quite pleased with themselves. After all, as university students, independently securing that kind of money was impressive.


    Seeing their mentor¡¯s inexplicably constipated expression, they assumed he was just worried about Ning Zhou:


    "Don¡¯t worry, Teacher. You just want us to look after Ning Zhou, right? After all this time, I get it¡ªhis personality has its flaws, but we¡¯re his seniors. We¡¯ll be patient with him. You can trust us to take him under our wing."


    "Yeah, out of respect for you, Teacher, we¡¯ll make the sacrifice. We¡¯re willing to guide him¡ªthough we¡¯ll still call him out if he messes up."


    Li Jun paused for a few seconds. "I don¡¯t think I¡¯ve mentioned this yet, but Ning Zhou¡¯s project has been signed."


    The two students were stunned. Before they could even ask for the amount, their mentor continued:


    "Funding of fifty million."


    The two: "..."


    Li Jun: "I already asked him. He¡¯s agreed to let you join."


    The two: "..."


    Li Jun eyed his students with concern.


    "Ning Zhou has a clearer perspective. He¡¯s so young but already leading a fifty-million-yuan project. I was worried people might not take him seriously."


    "You¡¯re not going there to criticize him. A project this big¡ªyou know how much it¡¯ll add to your resumes. So, out of gratitude for Ning Zhou giving you this opportunity, at least show him some respect in front of others."


    It should¡¯ve been good news, but the more Li Jun spoke, the less confident he felt. These three students were each more unreliable than the last, and there were misunderstandings between them.


    He couldn¡¯t help but rub his temples.


    Was putting these three together really the right decision?


    And it wasn¡¯t an exaggeration¡ªthese two students did have some principles. One of them had rebelled against his previous mentor for treating students like unpaid labor, regardless of the risks.


    They might not be willing to compromise their integrity just for money...


    "Teacher!"


    The eldest senior brother suddenly shot to his feet. "Don¡¯t worry! Leave Little Junior to us¡ªwe¡¯ll make sure he¡¯s well-fed and taken care of!"


    Li Jun: "..."


    The second senior brother, the one who had famously rebelled against his previous mentor on principle, nodded thoughtfully.


    "I passed by the lab earlier and saw Little Junior skipping meals again to work on experiments. I¡¯ll grab him some food later. He¡¯s so young¡ªhe shouldn¡¯t be neglecting his health like this."


    "Right! He loves braised pork with kidney beans. I¡¯ll get him some right away."


    "And stir-fried cabbage¡ªhe likes that too."


    "Teacher, we¡¯re heading to the cafeteria. Have you eaten? Want us to bring you something?"


    Li Jun: "...Get out!"


    "On it!"


    The two students promptly rolled out.


    Li Jun sat in his chair, rubbing his temples. After a moment, he couldn¡¯t help but chuckle.


    Hah. For some reason, he was feeling pretty darn pleased.

 Chapter 61

    Most of the matters related to Ning Zhou had been settled, and as for the project team members, Sheng Quan had made it clear she wouldn¡¯t interfere at all.


    Though his social skills were practically nonexistent, Ning Zhou¡¯s expertise in his field was undeniably reassuring.


    For now, she shifted her attention to other student projects.


    While her initial motivation had been Ning Zhou, Sheng Quan was genuinely serious about sifting through the multitude of projects available.


    Of course, she wasn¡¯t making the selections alone¡ªshe had enlisted professionals to analyze and pick the most promising ones.


    Even as she participated in the evaluations, Teacher Wang couldn¡¯t help but sigh every time he came across a project he particularly favored:


    "Even at our university, students still don¡¯t get enough research opportunities while they¡¯re still in school."


    Though he had been assigned by the university to accompany the big investor, after spending so much time together, Teacher Wang had come to see Sheng Quan almost like a junior family member, which was why he felt comfortable speaking his mind.


    "It¡¯s not just that lab resources are limited¡ªthere aren¡¯t enough advisors either. Even when students take the initiative to start their own projects, funding is a huge hurdle for those who haven¡¯t yet made a name for themselves outside campus."


    He sighed as he flipped through the project proposal in his hands. "Take this one, for example. You can tell just by looking that the student has done their homework. The foundation is solid, and the chances of success are high."


    "But even so, unless they¡¯ve already built a reputation or have a well-known advisor, hardly anyone would be willing to invest."


    Sheng Quan nodded in understanding¡ªit was only natural.


    Even though everyone acknowledged that young people were the hope of the future, when it came to investments, most would still choose experienced individuals with proven track records over blank-slate students.


    Investing in students meant being prepared to lose every penny. Who would do that?


    Even if billionaires wanted to do good, they¡¯d likely prefer donating directly or building schools¡ªat least those were tangible, guaranteed to be put to use.


    But research? They might be happy to donate to the university as a whole, but directly funding student projects? Almost unheard of.


    Because that money could very well vanish into thin air.


    Pouring vast sums into research, only for it all to come to nothing, was an all-too-common outcome in the scientific world.


    And if the investment went to students? The likelihood of total loss didn¡¯t just rise from 60%¡ªit skyrocketed to 90%.


    The teachers might joke about how tempting that billion-yuan investment was, even for them.


    But those who truly understood the struggles of student researchers knew just how rare and precious this opportunity was for undergraduates.


    This was a completely fair competition¡ªany student could participate.


    The competition might be fierce, but at least this was a chance meant just for them.


    Sheng Quan took the proposal from Teacher Wang and placed it in the "Final Review" stack.


    "Things won¡¯t stay this way forever. Twenty years ago, C University barely had any equipment¡ªnow they¡¯ve got every instrument that¡¯s ever hit the market."


    Half-joking, half-serious, she added, "Just wait and see. C University is full of geniuses¡ªthey just need an opportunity. If my investment helps these talents soar, companies will be lining up to fund students, and you¡¯ll be swamped hosting them all."


    She wasn¡¯t wrong. Businesses partnered with universities for profit, after all. If Sheng Quan¡¯s student investments yielded double or triple returns, others would quickly follow suit once they saw the potential gains.


    Teacher Wang wasn¡¯t nearly as optimistic. "That¡¯s easy to say, but with research, who can predict anything?"


    Even as professors, they could spend seven or eight years on a project and still have nothing to show for it. How could they place too much faith in students? That was just the nature of research¡ªhard work didn¡¯t always guarantee results.


    As a teacher, he wanted students to have as many hands-on opportunities as possible.


    But personally, he admired Sheng Quan too much not to worry¡ªwhat if she lost everything with no returns at all?


    A conscientious entrepreneur like her, willing to spend so much nurturing young talent¡ªif she suffered massive losses for doing good, it would weigh heavily on his heart.


    "How could I possibly lose everything?" Sheng Quan, however, seemed untroubled. "Have you forgotten what my company does?"


    "Big news!"


    A young woman burst into the dorm room, excitement lighting up her face as she addressed her roommates:


    "Do you know why Sheng Quan is picking student projects at our university to invest in?"


    At the mention of Sheng Quan¡¯s name, the previously curious roommates perked up instantly:


    "Wasn¡¯t it because she knows some big-shot alumnus who recommended our school?"


    If there were a ranking for C University¡¯s hottest topics lately, Sheng Quan¡¯s name would undoubtedly top the list.


    In less than a week, every rumor and tidbit about her¡ªhow wealthy she was, how extensive her connections, how deep her background¡ªhad spread across the entire campus.


    Don¡¯t assume C University students were above gossip. No matter how high their IQs or grades, they were still barely in their twenties, some even younger. Once they got started, they could out-gossip anyone.


    Especially when the subject was a major investor!


    At this age, most students were bursting with energy¡ªthe harder they studied, the more they dreamed of making their mark.


    But university was like a preview of the real world, blaring a harsh truth at them: all those grand plans of diving into research, studying diligently, and gaining practical experience? Lovely in theory, but without funding, none of it mattered.


    No money for research? How were they supposed to run projects, gain experience, or even learn properly?


    Poverty forced these ambitious students to hit a wall.


    All they could do was desperately seek out professors, try to impress them, or cozy up to senior students, begging to be included in their projects. Others agonized over papers, praying to every deity that their work might get published.


    And then, out of nowhere, a fortune dropped from the sky.


    Was it any wonder the students treated the woman holding that fortune like a goddess?


    "Okay, calling her a ¡®goddess¡¯ is a bit much, don¡¯t you think?"


    "Much? That¡¯s not even an exaggeration. Forget a billion¡ªif someone gave me just ten grand, I¡¯d light incense for the boss every morning and night, praying for her health and endless prosperity."


    Another girl, eager to hear the actual news, steered the conversation back:


    "So what¡¯s the big announcement? Is it about why Sheng Quan¡¯s investing here?"


    "Oh, right, right!" The excited young woman¡¯s eyes sparkled. "You all know Sheng Quan owns Starlight Entertainment, right? She backed The Path of Life and The Cultivator, but that¡¯s not the point. The real news is¡ªStarlight¡¯s prepping a major new production."


    "The theme is said to be sci-fi set in space, and guess what? One of the seniors in our institute has already signed a contract, with additional projects including making props for the film¡ªprops that are practically indistinguishable from the real thing.


    But that¡¯s still not the biggest highlight! The biggest highlight is¡ªbecause the big boss values that senior¡¯s project so much, and there are so many additional projects, the funding directly allocated to them is fifty million!"


    "Fifty million?!!!"


    Almost everyone¡¯s eyes widened in shock.


    "Fifty million... I wouldn¡¯t even dare dream that big. What kind of project is this senior working on? Are they still looking for people? Can we still apply to join now?"


    The young girl was pleased with their reactions. Having already gone through her own wave of astonishment earlier, she now appeared relatively calm:


    "Don¡¯t just focus on the fifty million! Listen to the key point! The fact that the big boss is pouring money into additional projects for the film crew means what? It means she¡¯s likely to favor projects whose results can be directly used in the film!"


    Her gaze landed on the long-haired girl sitting at the desk, still lost in thoughts about the "fifty million":


    "Shu Yue, isn¡¯t your project about robotic guide dogs? Have you submitted it? I think it fits perfectly for film production. There¡¯s a real chance it could get approved."


    The girl called Shu Yue froze for a moment, her first reaction being disbelief:


    "There are way too many people researching robotics. I heard some seniors who¡¯ve already made progress have also submitted proposals. My chances are probably slim."


    Her roommate reassured her: "Not necessarily. Didn¡¯t you consult about this project before? Weren¡¯t they all praising its feasibility?"


    Gu Shuyue couldn¡¯t help but feel a flicker of hope at these words.


    She was exactly the kind of student Teacher Wang had described¡ªunknown, without a mentor, from an average family, not a genius but diligent and hardworking. If not for Sheng Quan¡¯s wide-net opportunity, she might have had to wait until graduate school, under a professor¡¯s guidance, before daring to dream of joining someone else¡¯s project.


    Even then, it would take a year or two of accumulating experience, and only if luck was on her side with one or two successful projects, would she have a slim chance of starting her own.


    Despite having followed the field of robotic guide dogs since middle school, painstakingly gathering knowledge and experience, confident she could produce some results within six months if given the chance¡ªit didn¡¯t matter. Robotics was notoriously expensive, yet highly competitive. No one would invest in an ordinary student like Gu Shuyue, who hadn¡¯t even won any awards yet.


    So, ?????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????stumbling upon this opportunity, even if she downplayed it with words like "the odds are low," deep down, she couldn¡¯t help but hope.


    And it wasn¡¯t just her. Her roommates were hoping just as hard.


    While Gu Shuyue feared setting her expectations too high only to be disappointed, her roommates practically chanted in their hearts eight times a day for her to succeed.


    As the saying goes: When one rises to fame, even their chickens and dogs ascend to heaven!


    Gu Shuyue saw herself as ordinary, but her roommates thought she was amazing. After all, she was only a junior, yet she¡¯d already drafted a project proposal¡ªand she was willing to bring them along.


    In other words, she was the entire dorm¡¯s hope.


    After being comforted by her roommates, the dorm¡¯s hope heard her phone ring. She got up and stepped onto the balcony to answer:


    "Hi, Mom. Yeah, I¡¯ve eaten. I have enough money¡ªof course I do. The cafeteria here is cheap, and studies aren¡¯t too stressful. How are things at home? Good, good. Don¡¯t worry, I¡¯m doing just fine."


    After exchanging a few more words and catching up, the call ended. Gu Shuyue stared at the contact name¡ª"Mom"¡ªand her tired expression hardened with renewed determination.


    Just as she was about to return to her books, her phone buzzed with a new text notification.


    These days, spam messages were everywhere, but broke college students couldn¡¯t afford to ignore a single one. Despite living in the digital age, their stubborn school still clung to mass SMS for official notices.


    Like the "one billion" opportunity¡ªfirst announced via text, with students directed to the school website for details.


    Gu Shuyue absentmindedly tapped the message, her thoughts drifting to whether she should head to the library later.


    Then, her breath caught in her throat.


    "Shu Yue, I¡¯m going to the laundry room. Do you have any clothes to¡ªwhat¡¯s wrong? You look like you¡¯ve seen a ghost." Her roommate pushed open the balcony door, reaching for the clothes outside, only to freeze at Gu Shuyue¡¯s stunned expression.


    Gu Shuyue opened her mouth, taking several seconds to find her voice: "I... I got it..."


    "Got what? You look¡ª" Her roommate¡¯s eyes suddenly widened. "You got it?! You got approved?! Sheng Quan chose you?!!"


    Gu Shuyue couldn¡¯t even speak, nodding repeatedly, her ears ringing too much to make out her roommates¡¯ excited screams and laughter.


    Only when a tissue was pressed into her hand did she realize she was crying¡ªtears streaming down her face.


    Belatedly embarrassed, Gu Shuyue wiped her cheeks, but her roommates were even more ecstatic:


    "We get it! We totally get it! Oh my god, I¡¯m about to cry too! This has to be at least ten million in funding, right? Ten million!!!"


    "I knew it! I just knew it! Everyone online said Sheng Quan only cares about ability, nothing else. Shu Yue, you¡¯ve got this! Maybe you¡¯ll even get extra funding like that senior!"


    Surrounded by her cheering roommates, Gu Shuyue¡ªeyes still red¡ªfinally laughed along.


    For the first time, this young girl from a small town, with dreams of her own, felt the path ahead crystal clear. She knew this was just the beginning¡ªcountless challenges awaited once the project officially started.


    But at this moment, she wasn¡¯t afraid.


    Gu Shuyue tightened her grip on her phone, as if holding onto a bright future.


    Far away in that small town, reassured her daughter was doing well, Mother Gu set down the phone and gathered her things to head out.


    As she opened the door, her neighbor stepped out too. She paused, motioning for the other woman to go first.


    "Oh, Mother Gu, off to buy groceries? Where¡¯s your husband today?" The neighbor lingered, curiosity getting the better of her.


    Mother Gu smiled. "He¡¯s working overtime, so it¡¯s just me. It¡¯s fine¡ªthe market¡¯s right downstairs, and everyone there knows me. No one¡¯s going to cheat me."


    "The street¡¯s a bit crowded today. Let¡¯s go together¡ªI need to pick up some things too." The neighbor looped her arm through Mother Gu¡¯s, warm and inviting.


    "Alright." Mother Gu didn¡¯t refuse the kindness.


    She extended her retractable white cane, adjusted her sunglasses, and carefully tucked her wallet into an inner pocket. Satisfied nothing was forgotten, she nodded.


    "Let¡¯s go."


    ¡ªAt the same moment, a student fresh out of the lab stretched his stiff neck, dragging himself forward like a zombie as he pulled out his phone to check his messages.


    First, check the text messages, then the QQ group, and finally scroll through the SMS inbox¡ªnothing much today... Huh?!!!


    "Holy crap!! Holy crap!! Holy crap HAHAHAHAHAHAHA!!!"


    A student passing by with a junior who was visiting the area for the first time witnessed the scene of this student laughing maniacally in the hallway and clicked their tongue. "Another one¡¯s lost it."


    "Don¡¯t worry about it. No one in research stays sane forever. You¡¯ll get used to it."


    On this day, many people "lost it."


    All because of that one text message notifying them that their project had been approved.


    The originally planned three projects had ballooned to over thirty.


    Though more than twenty of them required funding under a million yuan, Sheng Quan didn¡¯t deduct this from the initial one billion but instead added an extra thirty million.


    ¡ªBecause the research institute hadn¡¯t spent much, Chairman Sheng still had plenty to spare.


    So now, the situation was this: one billion yuan to be split among three major projects.


    Ning Zhou got fifty million, Gu Shuyue got thirty million, and a student named Cheng Qixing received the remaining twenty million.


    The additional thirty million was divided among thirty smaller projects.


    What the three major project leaders thought about monopolizing the one billion was unknown to the smaller project teams. All they knew was that they were over the moon!


    What¡¯s an unexpected windfall? This was it!


    Especially after the media interviewed Sheng Quan, who said:


    "Originally, there were only three slots. That¡¯s what we initially discussed with the university. But the students at C University exceeded our expectations¡ªso many projects were simply too outstanding to pass up. That¡¯s why we decided to invest more."


    "Yes, I have a script about the interstellar era. Reading it made me so envious¡ªI wished I could wake up in the future and see all that advanced technology. But when I went through these students¡¯ project proposals, one by one, and saw the directions of their research, it hit me: I don¡¯t need to envy the future. Because they¡¯re the ones creating it."


    After elaborating on how these projects were both wildly imaginative and full of promise, Sheng Quan concluded:


    "We¡¯ll likely continue investing this way in the future. Honestly, these students have given me such a pleasant surprise. I¡¯m really looking forward to collaborating again."


    Though the interview was short, it set the hearts of countless C University students ablaze.


    [So that¡¯s what happened! I heard over a dozen projects got funding when it was originally supposed to be just a handful. Turns out it was because of this!]


    [Our school¡¯s full of hidden talent! Their research projects were so impressive that Sheng Quan couldn¡¯t bear to pass them up, even if it meant investing extra!]


    [My project was one of the thirty. Honestly, I¡¯m kind of ashamed¡ªI only joined to pad my resume. But hearing Sheng Quan say so earnestly that we¡¯re ¡®creating the future,¡¯ and knowing she must¡¯ve deliberated hard before adding thirty million... I swear I¡¯ll never half-ass it again.]


    [Our project made it too. All twenty-something of us vowed not to let Chairman Sheng down!]


    [I literally cried when I got the text. Then I cried again reading the news. Thank you so much, Chairman Sheng. We¡¯ll do our best to create that future.]


    [Sheng Quan¡¯s seriously the best. I even saw her teasing the school¡¯s ¡®Flower Senior¡¯ the other day and buying snacks for him.]


    [Teasing a senior???]


    [Upstairs, ¡®Flower Senior¡¯ is a calico cat that hangs around the lab building.]


    At first, the news didn¡¯t gain much traction beyond C University students, who mostly discussed it in campus forums.


    But the story was just too perfect for mainstream media.


    First, a company actively investing in student projects, encouraging on-campus research initiatives¡ªpure positive energy.


    Second, students enthusiastically submitting proposals, with so many outstanding ones that the company couldn¡¯t choose and decided to add thirty million¡ªalso positive energy.


    Finally, students feeling inspired to strive harder¡ªoverflowing with positivity.


    It had heart, emotion, and showcased young talent while encouraging other entrepreneurs to join in shaping a brighter future for research. Simply flawless.


    Even Sheng Quan¡¯s previous one-billion-yuan donation didn¡¯t get as much love from mainstream media as this did.


    Once leading outlets reposted it, others quickly followed suit.


    "Sheng Quan: I Added Thirty Million Because I Saw the Future They¡¯re Creating"


    "XXX Praises Sheng Quan, Urges Entrepreneurs to Support Research"


    "She ¡®Wasted¡¯ 130 Million, Yet People¡¯s Daily Applauds Her"


    Almost overnight, Sheng Quan was trending across every major platform.


    Industry peers: "..."


    They¡¯d thought Starlight Entertainment was busy prepping a new film and wouldn¡¯t make any big moves for a year. Then Sheng Quan pulled this stunt.


    Some found it baffling: "How does she even make university collaborations newsworthy?"


    And not just gossip¡ªproper, reputable news.


    The entertainment industry¡¯s longing for mainstream media recognition is like craving an official stamp of approval. If a celebrity got even a passing mention in serious press, their fans would never stop bragging.


    Why?


    Because mainstream media rarely praises anything related to showbiz.


    Yet with Sheng Quan, that rule seemed nonexistent.


    After stewing in envy, some consoled themselves: "She¡¯s not even on TV. Even if she¡¯s getting all this praise, her artists won¡¯t benefit. If that 130 million is just for this, it¡¯s not worth it."


    "Right. Chairman Sheng just loves the spotlight. A few newspaper compliments? Who even reads those anymore? Sure, it¡¯s positive energy, but the hype won¡¯t last."


    Then, it made it to television.


    Central News broadcast.

 Chapter 62

    "...This spirit is worth learning from and deserves praise. We believe..."


    Sheng Quan watched this segment over and over, growing more delighted each time. She hugged her blanket and rolled around on the bed excitedly.


    006 expressed confusion: [Host, she only praised you for a few sentences.]


    Back when Sheng Quan had won the Huaxing Building in a draw, she hadn¡¯t been this thrilled.


    [This is China Central Television!] Sheng Quan sat up, still clutching her blanket. [Do you know what this means? It means the entire nation saw it. And most importantly, they didn¡¯t just mention my name¡ªthey specifically said it was because of filming a movie that I came up with the idea to collaborate with students.]


    [China Central Television! They praised this approach, calling it an "innovative win-win spirit." In other industries, this might not have much impact, but in the entertainment world? It¡¯s a game-changer.]


    Of course, that was one aspect. The other was¡ªwhat Chinese person wouldn¡¯t be overjoyed to be praised by CCTV? Hahahaha!


    At the very least, Sheng Quan, who had been raised by her grandparents, was ecstatic.


    It was a shame her grandparents weren¡¯t around anymore. Otherwise, the two elders would¡¯ve bragged to all the neighbors from morning till night.


    To them, her being a big company boss, owning estates and buildings¡ªnone of that would compare to her being praised by CCTV.


    Though superstition shouldn¡¯t be encouraged, Sheng Quan still performed a little ritual across time and space, lighting incense for her grandparents. In her heart, she explained that she¡¯d time-traveled, which was why she couldn¡¯t visit their graves, but she was doing great¡ªeven getting praised on national TV now, blah blah blah.


    And indeed, Sheng Quan was thriving.


    Her life had already been blissful, but after this public recognition, all her completed projects were showered with fresh praise.


    The ongoing ones? Even more impressive. Especially "Star Wars"¡ªthough CCTV hadn¡¯t explicitly named it as the film Sheng Quan was producing, a quick inquiry would reveal the truth.


    Overnight, "Star Wars" transformed from just another "big-budget production" into "the movie praised by CCTV."


    What?


    It hadn¡¯t even started filming yet?


    Perfect! That meant there was still time for those wanting to ride the wave to jump on board.


    Suddenly, "Star Wars" was flooded with A-list actors begging to collaborate. Pay wasn¡¯t an issue¡ªthey just wanted screen time, preferably a spot in the main cast.


    In just two days, Xu Man, the director, fielded countless calls. Whenever she had a free moment, she vented to Sheng Quan:


    "Before, he wouldn¡¯t even consider it¡ªeither the pay wasn¡¯t enough or he only wanted lead roles. Apparently, he acted all high and mighty with the casting director, saying his schedule was packed. Now? Suddenly he¡¯s all ¡®I can do it, I¡¯ll clear my schedule!¡¯"


    Sheng Quan laughed. "Did you agree?"


    "Of course not! We just finalized the cast two days ago, contracts signed and everything. I¡¯d have to be insane to break them for that guy."


    Xu Man sighed, shaking her head. "Before, we were struggling to find actors. Now? We could assemble an all-star lineup without breaking a sweat. The problem isn¡¯t finding them¡ªit¡¯s choosing."


    The power of CCTV had exceeded everyone¡¯s expectations in the crew.


    The biggest concern with "Star Wars" had always been its massive ensemble¡ªso many characters, so many speaking roles. In other words: they needed a lot of actors to play high-ranking figures.


    But not just anyone could pull off those roles convincingly, and even those who could might not be willing to take a minor part in "Star Wars."


    Now? Problem solved.


    "If they just want the bragging rights of ¡®starring in a CCTV-praised film,¡¯ fine. As long as they can act the part, let them have it." Sheng Quan didn¡¯t care why these famous actors were coming. It was a mutual exchange.


    Of course, the already-cast roles were non-negotiable.


    Xu Man nodded firmly at Sheng Quan¡¯s reminder. "Absolutely. We¡¯re not about that ¡®drop the small fry to chase the big fish¡¯ nonsense. With Supervisor Yu keeping watch, you don¡¯t have to worry."


    As the director, Xu Man could feel it most clearly¡ªever since CCTV aired the segment praising Sheng Quan¡¯s support for student research projects, the entire production had smoothed out by several degrees.


    To Xu Man, Sheng Quan was practically a goddess. She couldn¡¯t help but wonder:


    "Did you know this would happen when you went to C University? No way¡ªyou predicted even CCTV¡¯s reaction?"


    "What are you thinking?" Sheng Quan laughed. "This was a complete surprise. What kind of person do you take me for? I can¡¯t predict something like this."


    But they weren¡¯t the only ones pleasantly surprised¡ªC University benefited too.


    Sure, CCTV had praised Sheng Quan, but why was she on the news? Because she¡¯d seen so many outstanding student projects that she couldn¡¯t bear to pass any up, so she forked over an extra 30 million to fund them!


    And those outstanding students? All from C University.


    Not that C University needed more prestige, but who would say no to extra bragging rights?


    Especially when universities were constantly jostling for rankings.


    Was ?????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????CCTV just praising Sheng Quan? No¡ªthey were praising the university by extension.


    The faculty at C University were smug.


    See? Their students were so impressive that someone who¡¯d planned to invest 100 million ended up adding another 30.


    As for the students? They were over the moon¡ªafter all, they were the ones Sheng Quan had directly praised.


    Sure, she¡¯d singled out the 30 teams whose projects got funding, but with the news blowing up, who cared about details? The words "C University student" now carried even more weight.


    And the real jackpot? After the CCTV segment, several investors showed up on campus, picking out student projects to fund.


    The fastest to arrive was a certain Mr. Wang, who cheerfully dropped 3 million. Rumor had it his full name was Wang Zhengzheng. With a friendly smile, he explained:


    "Chairman Sheng and I are business partners. She¡¯s got an eye for talent¡ªif she says C University is full of bright minds, then it must be true. So here I am. If it works out, great. If not, no harm done. Consider it my way of answering the national call."


    Yes, Mr. Wang was a copycat.


    After "The Road of Life" and "The Cultivator," this ambitious older gentleman had fully committed to his "follow Sheng Quan to get rich" strategy.


    Sure, funding research projects was risky, but 3 million? A gamble he could afford.


    To him, it was a small bet. But to cash-strapped college students whose biggest flex was "who bought the cheapest thing," this was life-changing money!


    And everyone knew one thing: this windfall came because of Sheng Quan.


    The campus had already been buzzing about her, but now the discussions reached fever pitch. Some even dug up old interviews of hers.


    One was from back during "The Voice of You," when she¡¯d donated 100 million on the spot and been swarmed by reporters.


    One of the questions was, "When did Sheng Quan, who grew up abroad, start thinking about returning to China?"


    This question was clearly designed for clickbait¡ªif Sheng Quan answered with a late timeframe, it could be spun as her being unpatriotic. If she answered with an early one, the headline could read, "Chinese national raised abroad donates 100 million upon returning, claims she always wanted to come back."


    But Sheng Quan''s response was neither early nor late: "Around the time I started university. I was already an adult by then, so my family felt comfortable letting me return alone, though it didn¡¯t work out for various reasons in the end."


    At the time, this small interview didn¡¯t attract much attention from the gossip-loving public, as everyone was more focused on the "100 million" figure.


    Now, however, this old interview has resurfaced.


    As it circulated, it eventually reached C University, where somehow the narrative morphed into:


    ["Was Sheng Quan planning to return to China for university because she wanted to attend our school?"]


    Once someone voiced this, others began to see the logic in it.


    ["That might actually be true. Otherwise, out of all the universities in China, why would she specifically choose ours?"]


    A more level-headed student chimed in:


    ["Wasn¡¯t it because she met a prominent alumnus from our school who recommended it to her?"]


    But they were immediately countered: ["Even for someone as wealthy as her, you don¡¯t just throw 130 million at a school just because a friend suggested it. There¡¯s definitely sentimental value involved."]


    ["I agree. Plus, Sheng Quan clearly adores our campus. I often see her popping up in random corners of the school."]


    ["Hey, haven¡¯t you noticed that every time she¡¯s in a corner, there¡¯s a cat there? She¡¯s obviously just there to pet them, lol."]


    ["Other schools have cats too. Why doesn¡¯t she go pet those instead of only coming here?"]


    ["I¡¯ve seen her too, but I didn¡¯t notice any cats¡ªjust her entourage of bodyguards. The men are dashing, the women are stunning, all with narrow waists and long legs, dressed in those sharp uniforms. Fans self"]


    ["Same!!! Everyone around Sheng Quan is ridiculously attractive. Especially the one who always holds an umbrella for her. Last time I walked past them and reached for my phone, the tall, handsome bodyguard immediately locked onto me with this intense stare. The aura was unreal. Later, it hit me¡ªhe probably thought I was reaching for a gun or something, lol."]


    ["Hard same. Every time Sheng Quan visits, I can¡¯t help but stare. Her entourage is just so visually pleasing¡ªit¡¯s like therapy for the soul."]


    ["Don¡¯t you know? Sheng Quan¡¯s a total looks person. She signed Yan Hui back then because she saw him selling jianbing and thought he was good-looking."]


    The conversation gradually derailed into a heated debate about which of Sheng Quan¡¯s long-legged bodyguards was the most attractive. Someone even dug up old, blurry photos and helpfully ranked them from #1 to #5.


    Most votes went to #3 and #5, except for one user named "Elegant Alumnus," who staunchly supported #1.


    ["#1 is hands-down the most handsome! He doesn¡¯t stand out as much at first glance, but if you look closely, he¡¯s the best. His presence totally eclipses the other four."]


    This declaration sparked immediate pushback from fans of the other four:


    ["Oh, as if you¡¯ve gotten a ¡®close look¡¯ at him."]


    Elegant: ["...I have! He¡¯s seriously the best. And I even know his surname¡ªSheng Quan calls him ¡®Brother Jiang.¡¯"]


    "We¡¯re here."


    Just as he discreetly glanced at the man¡¯s broad back in front of him, Jiang Lu¡ªas if sensing the gaze¡ªsuddenly turned his head, first scanning him before addressing the group:


    "Let¡¯s get off."


    "Senior, you¡¯re in my way." Ning Zhou, seated inside, stood up. His face, as pure and delicate as a little white rabbit¡¯s, delivered two blunt words: "Move."


    "Right away!"


    "Elegant," whose real name was Han Ruya and who was also Ning Zhou¡¯s senior brother, hastily scooted aside. "Careful, don¡¯t bump your head."


    He knew Ning Zhou had a tendency to knock into things.


    The second senior brother in the back also scrambled to help. After all, they were fellow disciples¡ªit was only natural for seniors to look after their junior. It definitely had nothing to do with the 50 million.


    Ning Zhou didn¡¯t notice his seniors acting differently. His full attention was fixed on the research institute outside. While his brothers marveled at its size, he remained indifferent¡ªuntil they stepped inside.


    The young man¡¯s perpetually disinterested eyes instantly lit up.


    "X-23, U-1..."


    He moved from instrument to instrument, calling out the names he¡¯d given each one with focused delight.


    The student team trailing behind was too awestruck by the institute¡¯s grandeur to question the origins of these names.


    "All of this... is for us? This entire place is ours?!"


    "Of course."


    Sheng Quan walked over, having just arrived herself. Chen Aihong, who¡¯d accompanied her, stood nearby.


    When Chen Aihong had initially connected Sheng Quan with her alma mater, she¡¯d never imagined it would lead to such a spectacular outcome. The school hadn¡¯t forgotten her role either, promptly calling to express their gratitude.


    Honestly? It was a major ego boost.


    So when she heard Sheng Quan had bought a research institute, she volunteered to check it out. Now, watching the students¡¯ excited faces, she couldn¡¯t help but smile fondly.


    Sheng Quan turned to Ning Zhou, whose fair cheeks were flushed with excitement, and grinned.


    "Ning Zhou, do you like it here?"


    Ning Zhou immediately looked up at her. This time, he didn¡¯t avert his gaze but met her eyes with undisguised joy. "I like it."


    "Good. From now on, this place is yours to manage however you want."


    Ning Zhou was practically glowing with happiness, his eyes darting around as if memorizing every detail.


    "Okay. Thank you."


    Typical of him¡ªshort and to the point.


    But the sparkle in his eyes and the way he kept sneaking glances at Sheng Quan betrayed just how thrilled he was.


    "You¡¯re welcome."


    Finally having delivered this long-planned surprise, Sheng Quan¡¯s mood soared.


    She turned to Chen Aihong. "Since we¡¯re here, why not visit your alma mater? Let¡¯s leave them to settle in."


    Chen Aihong happily agreed.


    After they left, one student couldn¡¯t contain their excitement any longer:


    "Uh, this place isn¡¯t classified, right?"


    The staff member staying behind shook his head. "Nope."


    The student¡¯s grin widened. "Then I¡¯m posting this on the alumni group!"


    In the digital age, information spreads at the tap of a button.


    By the time Sheng Quan and Chen Aihong reached C University, the news had already blown up across campus.


    President Sheng Quan actually went ahead and set up an entire research institute for the Ning Zhou project team to conduct their studies!


    And it¡¯s located right near C University, so some of the faculty can even use the equipment and labs there.


    She must have a deep love for C University.


    Many people now believe the rumor that "Sheng Quan once wanted to attend C University" must be true.


    While this realization dawned on them, as members of C University, they couldn¡¯t help but feel a surge of pride.


    Look, even someone like President Sheng Quan adores our school.


    No wonder she¡¯s been so good to us students.


    Who wouldn¡¯t appreciate being liked by others, especially after Sheng Quan had just helped them so much?


    In no time, Sheng Quan¡¯s already high reputation at C University skyrocketed even further.


    Strangely enough, through all this, even though Sheng Quan wasn¡¯t a C University graduate, she ended up receiving the treatment of an esteemed alum. Students affectionately started calling her "Senior Sheng Quan."


    Online, people often boast about having fans from this or that school.


    But Sheng Quan? She earned the fervent admiration of an entire prestigious university.


    When minor disputes broke out online over the two-month-long casting process for Interstellar War, someone dragged Sheng Quan into it. Before her fans could even react, a C University student spotted the comment, shared it in their alumni circle, and instantly rallied an army.


    A swarm of sharp-minded students¡ªadept in both science and literature¡ªlaunched a logically airtight counterattack, verbally dismantling the offender until they deleted their account. The battle left behind a legendary quote:


    "Bullying our Senior Sheng Quan? Did you think C University had no one to stand up for her?"


    This clash became an instant legend.


    Chen Aihong had just gotten home when she saw the entertainment gossip and froze for several seconds in disbelief.


    Sheng Quan... her senior?


    Were they alumni?


    Since when?!


    But soon, something far more important captured her full attention.


    A message from Sheng Quan: "Professor Chen, a machine guide dog project I¡¯ve invested in has made some progress. As an expert in this field, could you take a look and share your thoughts?"

 Chapter 63

    "The Interstellar War" officially began filming.


    A few days into production, perhaps due to skepticism about "having C University students handle movie props," a certain well-known figure in the scientific research community, Professor Zhang, publicly voiced his opinion:


    "I wholeheartedly support collaborating with C University students on this interstellar-themed film project. Those who claim this is inappropriate, saying these students will neglect their primary responsibilities¡ªwhat exactly is their primary responsibility if not holed up in school just reading books? Scientific research requires continuous learning and hands-on practice."


    "If someone is willing to offer this opportunity, investing real money to let them gain practical experience, they should be overjoyed. What¡¯s wrong with helping with movie props? You¡¯re getting paid well¡ªdid you think you wouldn¡¯t have to do any work? If I were a student, I¡¯d apply for this too."


    Professor Zhang¡¯s influence was so significant that after his remarks, the buzz around the project surged once again.


    Though few directly mentioned "The Interstellar War," everyone could imagine the prestige the actors would gain once the film was released.


    Today, the actor playing the male lead¡¯s second-in-command (Ming Yi) scrolled through these highly trending videos, thinking to himself that President Sheng was a rare, selfless benefactor who didn¡¯t care about money.


    Just look¡ªeven such an esteemed figure acknowledged that President Sheng was providing students with a chance to learn through practice. Ming Yi interpreted this as: this research-related investment probably wasn¡¯t profitable.


    Now that was vision.


    Ming Yi¡¯s real name was rather unappealing, so he¡¯d adopted a stage name. He was just an ordinary small-time actor.


    His main reason for paying attention to President Sheng was simple: as a minor actor, he was acutely aware that "President Sheng was the financial backer for everyone in the crew," so he wanted to practice the art of flattery in advance.


    But Ming Yi wasn¡¯t just looking to ride coattails¡ªhe genuinely felt gratitude.


    Before "The Interstellar War" received praise from the central authorities, landing this role had already sent him into a frenzy of joy. Even if sci-fi was a niche genre in China, this was the male lead¡¯s second-in-command in a major production!


    The budget was enormous, the male lead was Jiang Zhen¡ªa rising star who had recently gained international fame¡ªand the female lead was Hua Qing, a long-established actress whose career had soared even higher after joining Starlight Entertainment.


    Even Yan Hui, currently at the peak of his popularity, was cast as the third male lead (though rumors said it was only because his schedule was too packed to take on a larger role). Ming Yi couldn¡¯t help but feel a bit out of place, like a husky that had somehow wandered into a pack of wolves.


    His agent reassured him, pointing out that "The Interstellar War" was produced by Starlight Entertainment¡ªit made sense for their in-house talent to join the project.


    "Look at the cast list¡ªalmost all the well-known actors are signed with Starlight, aren¡¯t they?"


    Ming Yi saw the logic and relaxed a little.


    In the months leading up to filming, he holed up at home memorizing lines and meticulously rehearsing his expressions and movements.


    Even if sci-fi wasn¡¯t mainstream, with so many big names attached, the box office couldn¡¯t possibly flop. Ming Yi knew this opportunity was once-in-a-lifetime, and he was determined to seize it.


    Then, President Sheng was publicly commended by the central authorities¡ªand "The Interstellar War" was name-dropped alongside her.


    Overnight, the yet-to-be-released film became the hottest commodity in the industry.


    Ming Yi: "..."


    From that moment, he braced himself for the inevitable¡ªbeing unceremoniously replaced.


    But one day passed, then two. A month, then two. Finally, the crew notified him: it was time to start filming.


    "The Interstellar War" hadn¡¯t replaced him!


    They hadn¡¯t swapped him out for a bigger star!


    After he joined the set, perhaps sensing his unease, supervising producer Yu Xiangwan assured him that even a famous actor who had offered to slash his fee for the role hadn¡¯t gotten it.


    All because President Sheng had decreed: unless under extraordinary circumstances, last-minute recasting was forbidden. No matter how big the star eyeing his role, as long as Ming Yi didn¡¯t mess up, the part was his to keep.


    Ming Yi was overwhelmed with gratitude.


    Without exaggeration, at that moment, his admiration for President Sheng reached its peak.


    Watching Ming Yi walk away, face alight with "joy, gratitude, and excitement," Yu Xiangwan was pleased.


    As the supervising producer, he was swamped with work, but that didn¡¯t stop him from seizing every chance to boost President Sheng¡¯s reputation¡ªespecially since she had read the script and was particularly fond of the male lead¡¯s second-in-command.


    The character¡¯s costumes and styling still weren¡¯t extensive enough. A few more custom outfits should be added.


    Yu Xiangwan swiftly calculated a plan, adjusting his glasses in a way that made him look even more like a refined scoundrel.


    Meanwhile, Ming Yi¡¯s nerves had settled. Walking on air, he carefully embraced his first-ever "supporting male lead" role.


    With no scenes scheduled for the day, after the opening ceremony, he was free to explore the set.


    And what he discovered left him awestruck.


    The set was massive.


    The green screen stretched endlessly.


    The filming equipment was unlike anything he¡¯d seen before.


    The crowd was enormous.


    That pillar was impressively tall... Wait, what was that?!


    "Holy¡ª"


    His assistant, assigned to him after he landed the role, gasped behind him.


    The two stood before what they¡¯d mistaken for a "pillar," only to realize it was one leg of a colossal mechanical hound.


    Towering, menacing, oozing sci-fi grandeur.


    "That¡¯s a prop for the mechanized beast scenes¡ªnot real," a props technician called out from behind the structure, busy touching up the paint. "Be careful not to bump into it. Damaging it means more touch-ups."


    "Just a prop? It looks insanely real." Ming Yi exhaled in relief. "This must be the work of the same team behind the Ten Great Celestial Palaces, right? The realism is next-level."


    He recalled the news he¡¯d seen earlier and glanced up at the giant mechanical hound. "This isn¡¯t the one mentioned in the reports, is it? The project President Sheng invested in, made by those students?"


    Ming Yi knew nothing about scientific research, but if students had built something this massive in just two and a half months, that would be mind-blowing.


    The props guy chuckled. "Of course not."


    Ming Yi: Right, that made more sense.


    Then the technician gestured to the left.


    "Those over there are the students¡¯ work."


    They turned to see three sleek, metallic-black "hounds," each about human height, their heads encased in iron cages, limbs powerfully built. Laden with filming gear, they moved in a disciplined line, effortlessly sidestepping a crew member carrying a box.


    Ming Yi and his assistant: "..."


    They stood dumbfounded, watching as three mechanical dogs¡ªeach several times larger than a human¡ªmarched steadily toward the green-screen tent set up by the film crew, lined up in position, and then slowly "sat down."


    Staff members emerged from the tent, calling over colleagues to unload the items strapped to the dogs'' backs. After patting the mechanical heads and saying something, the three "giant dogs" slowly rose again, turned around, and headed back the way they came.


    "This... this was made by students???"


    Ming Yi was completely stunned.


    And he wasn¡¯t the only one. Chen Aihong was equally shocked.


    "To achieve this in just two and a half months¡ªGu Shuyue is an absolute genius!!!"


    She couldn¡¯t help but be excited. Even if she had started researching this project from scratch, there was no way she could have achieved such results in such a short time.


    Though these mechanical dogs could only perform pre-programmed actions¡ªlike the transport of heavy loads along a fixed route, as Ming Yi had just witnessed¡ªtheir obstacle avoidance, agility, and sensor responsiveness far exceeded Chen Aihong¡¯s expectations.


    It wasn¡¯t that she thought it was impossible. It was just... too fast. Unbelievably fast.


    She wanted to ask Gu Shuyue how she had managed to produce such an impressive prototype in such a short time.


    Faced with the inquiry from this renowned senior researcher, Gu Shuyue was both excited and a little shy. Her cheeks flushed slightly, and after a few seconds of hesitation, she blurted out two words:


    "Money."


    Chen Aihong: "..."


    Sheng Quan, who had been leisurely sipping a glass of juice, looked up and remarked,


    "Don¡¯t be so modest. If money alone could produce results like this, I¡¯d already be surrounded by mechanical dogs."


    Even though Gu Shuyue was usually reserved in front of both a senior researcher and her benefactor, Sheng Quan¡¯s humor made her laugh. She smiled sheepishly and explained,


    "It really was because of the funding. I¡¯ve been researching this for ten years, but I could never afford large-scale experiments¡ªonly small ones, bit by bit. That¡¯s why progress was so slow before."


    As she spoke, her eyes sparkled with excitement and reverence as she looked at Sheng Quan.


    Chen Aihong was puzzled. Sheng Quan and Gu Shuyue had only met a handful of times. Even as a financial backer, was this level of admiration really necessary?


    Then she heard the young student eagerly explain:


    "I never expected President Sheng to release the entire research grant at once! With that money, we could finally buy materials we¡¯d only dreamed of¡ªhigh-end sensors, signal markers..."


    Sheng Quan suddenly understood. It wasn¡¯t that Gu Shuyue had created a miracle in two and a half months.


    Rather, it was a decade¡¯s worth of accumulated breakthroughs, finally unleashed by the sudden influx of funding.


    The money had been well spent. Extremely well spent.


    But Gu Shuyue was only in her early twenties. If she¡¯d been researching for ten years... that meant she¡¯d started in middle school. Truly, talented people were impressive from a young age.


    As she mused, Chen Aihong turned to her in astonishment:


    "You released the entire grant at once? All three million??? In one go?!"


    Sheng Quan took another sip of juice. "Yeah, the project¡¯s expensive. I assigned oversight, so I just disbursed it all at once. Is that not allowed?"


    Chen Aihong: "...It¡¯s allowed, but large grants are rarely released in full like that."


    Three million. All at once.


    What a legendary boss.


    If not for her self-restraint, Chen Aihong might have grabbed Sheng Quan and begged her to invest in her own projects.


    Gu Shuyue felt the same way.


    She had long wanted to establish her own research project, so she¡¯d done plenty of asking around. The most common complaint from senior researchers was how difficult it was to secure funding¡ªeven after approval.


    Though two and a half months had passed, the exhilaration of receiving the grant still burned inside her. Even with oversight, this was the greatest show of trust she had ever experienced.


    So for the past two and a half months, she and her team had worked tirelessly, determined to repay President Sheng¡¯s faith.


    A fully functional robotic guide dog couldn¡¯t be developed so quickly. But with ample funding, they had managed to create an imposing, film-ready "transport dog" that could carry heavy loads.


    Gu Shuyue watched Sheng Quan with bright eyes, eager for her thoughts on the prototype.


    And Sheng Quan¡¯s thoughts? They were overwhelmingly positive.


    The first time she saw those three towering, fierce-looking mechanical dogs, she¡¯d almost wanted to take one home as a pet.


    Sure, they looked intimidating¡ªbut who could resist a cyberpunk-style mechanical dog with a reinforced muzzle, glowing lights at night, and an aesthetic straight out of Interstellar Wars?


    The props department had been overjoyed to have these three marvels on set from day one.


    "Xiao He told me every cent was spent where it should be." (Xiao He was the supervisor assigned to Gu Shuyue¡¯s project.)


    Sheng Quan continued, "To produce results this fast, you must have been burning the midnight oil. I¡¯d like to offer some additional support."


    President Sheng¡¯s support was always straightforward:


    "Starting this month, every member of your team will receive a 5,000-yuan bonus. You¡¯ll get 15,000."


    Gu Shuyue¡¯s eyes widened.


    A quick note: Though scientific research is highly valued, the salaries of early-career researchers¡ªespecially fresh graduates¡ªare often modest.


    As for students? Let¡¯s not even go there.


    Five thousand was already generous. Fifteen thousand?


    For Gu Shuyue, that number translated to nearly four times her father¡¯s monthly salary.


    And here she was, still in university, already earning that much.


    "President Sheng, I..."


    For a moment, she was too overwhelmed to speak.


    Three months ago, she had been lost, questioning whether her decade of dedication had been worth it. Now, not only could she pursue her research without restraint, but she was also being rewarded beyond her wildest dreams.


    Her parents would be overjoyed when they found out.


    "Your future achievements will only grow from here," Sheng Quan said, patting her hand. (These were the hands of a future great scientist!) "Keep working hard, and with tangible results, there¡¯s no limit to what you can earn."


    "Stay motivated. We¡¯ll have rewards for every milestone you hit."


    If anyone else had said this, it might have sounded like empty promises. But coming from Sheng Quan? It carried weight.


    Gu Shuyue nodded fervently, all her gratitude condensed into one phrase: "Thank you, President Sheng!"


    "No need for thanks."


    Sheng Quan gave her hand another pat before Gu Shuyue left the cafe?, her heart brimming with hope for the future.


    Brimming with excitement, she dialed her family¡¯s number:


    "...Yes, 15,000. It¡¯s real. Every month..."


    ¡ªOutside, ?????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????through the glass, Sheng Quan watched as Gu Shuyue walked down the street, chatting animatedly on the phone and playfully brushing her hands against the leaves along the path. The sight made her smile.


    "Truly incredible. C University really is full of hidden talents."


    "Yes," Chen Aihong also looked over, her face filled with warmth and anticipation. "That child has a bright future ahead of her."


    Sheng Quan fell into thought. "Should I invest more in her? I can¡¯t shake the feeling that she¡¯ll bring me a huge surprise. It really was the right decision to invest in students back then. Professor Chen, do you think I should look for more students to invest in?"


    Chen Aihong paused for a moment.


    She asked, "Do you know Academician Zhang Hong?"


    Sheng Quan snapped back to attention. "Of course I do. He praised me just a couple of days ago¡ªhow could I not know?"


    The old man was nearly ninety, yet he still kept up with the latest news and even spoke up in her defense. She had been thoroughly stunned.


    Professor Chen, now 55 and highly respected in her field¡ªhaving turned down countless offers from major corporations¡ªsat up straight with dignified composure.


    "He was my teacher, so strictly speaking..."


    She cleared her throat and concluded,


    "I¡¯m also a student."

 Chapter 64

    Sheng Quan was nothing short of pleasantly surprised.


    She had previously extended an invitation to Professor Chen, after all, Chen was an expert in robotics, and as everyone knew, sci-fi films were never without robots.


    But back then, Chen Aihong had flatly refused, forcing Sheng Quan to settle for inviting her as a consultant for the film crew.


    Now, however, Chen was proactively seeking collaboration.


    Sheng Quan hadn¡¯t come across Chen Aihong¡¯s name in the original text, but she could see her current achievements.


    After reviewing the project proposal, the third round of approvals went smoothly, and she officially entered into a partnership with Professor Chen Aihong.


    When the news spread, the first to express astonishment wasn¡¯t the film crew but the researchers familiar with Professor Chen.


    Even Chen Aihong¡¯s mentor, Academician Zhang, called to ask:


    ¡°You¡¯ve never liked collaborating with corporations before. Even when that big company, Leyuan, approached you, you turned them down. Why the change of heart now?¡±


    Chen Aihong replied, ¡°It¡¯s just... I feel at ease. I like Director Sheng¡¯s attitude toward researchers.¡±


    She turned to look at the bustling film crew, the mechanical transport dogs moving around the set, and the small-scale rail system being constructed in the distance.


    None of this was groundbreaking enough to shock researchers¡ªmechanical dogs had been done before, and these transport units lacked autonomy, with obstacle avoidance still somewhat rudimentary.


    But they had been built by a group of students barely in their twenties, in an incredibly short time.


    And now, with Sheng Quan¡¯s strong support, these students were pushing forward, alongside more than thirty other student teams.


    Thinking of Ning Zhou¡¯s team, whom she had seen at the research institute, Chen Aihong said:


    ¡°Teacher, you might think this sounds far-fetched, but even though this is just a movie, I believe that by the time it¡¯s released, it might truly create not just one, but several miracles.¡±


    Academician Zhang paused for a few seconds. Instead of dismissing his student¡¯s words as wishful thinking, the ninety-year-old chuckled and responded:


    ¡°Then let¡¯s look forward to that day together.¡±


    While Chen Aihong and the others were anticipating miracles, the on-set visual effects (VFX) supervisors sent by Starlight Entertainment felt they were already witnessing one.


    It was common knowledge that film VFX were part of post-production.


    But in reality, there was such a thing as on-set VFX supervision¡ªa role that involved following the production from start to finish, collecting data, and assisting during the filming of VFX-heavy scenes.


    It sounded impressive, but in simple terms, it was underpaid and overworked.


    To elaborate: the pay wasn¡¯t terrible, but the workload was absolutely overwhelming.


    Put nicely, on-set VFX supervisors served as a bridge between VFX companies and the film crew. Put bluntly, they were stuck in the middle, bearing the brunt of conflicting demands.


    Every day, they lugged around multiple heavy pieces of equipment while dealing with unexpected issues. Domestic VFX artists weren¡¯t yet mainstream, and on-set VFX supervision was still an underdeveloped field. Often, when the VFX company said one thing and the crew said another, the pressure could become unbearable.


    But to their surprise, the newly hired VFX supervisors at Starlight Entertainment found their work on Star Wars proceeding remarkably smoothly.


    The crew¡¯s attitude toward them was even more seamless than on some big-budget Hollywood sets.


    Gao Shi, the leader of the on-set VFX team, had seen his fair share of high-profile productions. Yet, after joining the Star Wars crew, he spent the first few days in a state of flattered disbelief at how valued they were.


    In truth, Gao Shi had been with Starlight Entertainment for less than ten days.


    He was an old classmate of Tan Hongguang¡¯s and had been working abroad, where the VFX environment was more developed. But with his elderly parents growing older and his old friend luring him back with a generous salary, he had finally taken the plunge and resigned to return home.


    At Starlight Entertainment, there were quite a few VFX artists like Gao Shi¡ªthose who had worked overseas but were persuaded by Tan Hongguang or others to come back.


    Most had families. If not for necessity, who would willingly live far from home? A stable, well-paying job in their own country was enough to make them pack their bags and return.


    Gao Shi was the most experienced on-set VFX supervisor at Starlight Entertainment, so within three days of joining, he was promoted to team leader.


    The title wasn¡¯t what mattered¡ªwhat mattered was the higher salary.


    This early boost eased his initial worries. More importantly, Starlight Entertainment was expanding at an astonishing rate.


    After the viral success of their Ten Great Celestial Palaces VFX showcase, the company¡¯s name had entered the public consciousness. The stunningly detailed effects not only boosted their reputation but also attracted top domestic VFX talent.


    From day one, Gao Shi had sensed the enormous ambition behind this fledgling company.


    In China, a VFX team of a few dozen was already considered sizable.


    The biggest VFX firms had maybe two or three hundred employees.


    Yet Starlight Entertainment, a brand-new company, already had a staggering six hundred employees¡ªand was still hiring.


    While continuously releasing high-quality VFX content related to Starlight Entertainment to attract fans, they had turned down all new clients after Star Wars began filming, focusing every resource on this one production.


    This wasn¡¯t just about making Star Wars Starlight Entertainment¡¯s biggest advertisement.


    Gao Shi had never met Chairman Sheng Quan, but it was clear that a leader who could steer Starlight Entertainment¡¯s steady rise wasn¡¯t the type to ¡°whimsically decide to start a massive VFX company.¡±


    Running a VFX studio was expensive, let alone one with over five hundred employees and the countless high-end, pricey equipment on set. These preparations couldn¡¯t possibly be just for Star Wars.


    Starlight Entertainment... was playing a much bigger game.


    Once Gao Shi realized this, his enthusiasm for work soared.


    If Starlight Entertainment had founded a subsidiary like this to produce more blockbuster films, it meant that as long as Starlight stood, the VFX studio would thrive.


    On a personal level, it meant promotions and raises¡ªmaybe even a lifelong career at Starlight.


    On a grander scale, if Sheng Quan¡¯s plans panned out, the studio he was part of might one day make waves globally.


    Having worked abroad, Gao Shi was acutely aware of the global disdain for Chinese VFX.


    But in reality, Chinese VFX artists were far from inferior.


    Many Hollywood blockbusters with jaw-dropping effects had Chinese artists behind them, and international films often outsourced VFX work to Chinese studios.


    All Gao Shi could hope was that his instincts were right¡ªthat Sheng Quan was indeed orchestrating something monumental behind Starlight Entertainment and its VFX subsidiary.


    The thought alone was exhilarating.


    Not aiming to compete with those top-tier special effects companies, it would be enough if a Chinese special effects firm could secure a place on the international stage.


    "It''s not enough."


    Sheng Quan flipped through the equipment list: "Send someone to purchase more fixed cameras, and motion capture devices too. The equipment must be among the most cutting-edge available."


    The reason this report landed in her hands was due to the staggering amount of money involved.


    Even before the film began shooting, they had already purchased a large batch of filming equipment and on-set special effects gear, along with substantial investments in research. Now, just as production officially started, another massive expenditure was required.


    The enormous profits generated by "The Cultivator" had barely warmed their hands before being poured out again. Anyone else might have advised against it.


    But the executor was Gu Zhao.


    Within the entire company, he was the most radical, though his usual rational approach to handling affairs masked it well.


    Not only did he immediately agree to execute the plan, but he also raised another major company matter:


    "We need to clear out the 32nd floor as well."


    Recently, Starlight Entertainment had undergone a significant expansion. Artists previously signed under the company had been assigned suitable roles, and now their projects were entering a phase of explosive releases.


    Just ?????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????like Yan Hui, Hua Qing, and Jiang Zhen, as their films and shows aired, the influx of fans and fame brought invitations from production teams and brands alike.


    At the start of the year, Jiang Zhen had already traveled to various countries over eight times. Yan Hui and Hua Qing were similarly busy, though their fanbases were mostly domestic, so their schedules kept them flying around the country.


    Despite the hectic pace, all of them were highly career-driven and found fulfillment in their work.


    At Starlight, exploiting artists was strictly forbidden¡ªa firm decree from the top leadership, Sheng Quan herself.


    Moreover, as long as signed artists had the talent, the company would propel them forward. Even newcomers who struggled to land roles could be placed in Starlight''s own productions.


    And it wasn¡¯t just actors. Take Jin Jiu, An Baixing, and Yu Hongdou¡ªStarlight¡¯s first batch of signed singers¡ªwho, in just a short time, had already gained considerable fame.


    Jin Jiu had released several new songs, and after "The Cultivator" aired, the theme song he performed became a nationwide hit. Though he didn¡¯t hold many concerts, the ones he did were packed to capacity.


    He was even invited to be a mentor on a talent show¡ªthough he declined, the fact that he went from an unknown contestant to a potential mentor in less than a year was something even inspirational movies wouldn¡¯t dare portray.


    With the company¡¯s fair treatment and proven ability to elevate artists, Starlight Entertainment, barely a year old, had quickly become a dream destination for many in the industry.


    Newcomers choosing agencies were one thing, but even established artists stuck in stagnant careers were willing to pay termination fees to jump ship to Starlight.


    This rapid growth, however, came with a downside: space was running out.


    They needed another floor for operations, as well as new hires.


    Reviewing the company¡¯s current state, Sheng Quan recalled her early days founding Starlight, when she had imagined the entire Huaxing Building one day belonging to the company.


    She hadn¡¯t expected Starlight to double in size so quickly.


    Though thrilled, her thoughts aligned with Gu Zhao¡¯s:


    "After this expansion, slow down new signings for now. Let¡¯s stabilize first."


    While rapid growth was exhilarating, entertainment companies¡ªoften tied to large projects and financial strains¡ªneeded breathing room.


    The entire Starlight team had been working at full throttle. In most industries, high rewards came with high-intensity labor, and "The Cultivator¡¯s" success had brought not just wealth but an overwhelming workload.


    Walking through the offices, Sheng Quan saw employees rushing about, executives with dark circles under their eyes, and hairlines that seemed to have receded slightly.


    Even workaholic Gu Zhao looked worn out¡ªthough thankfully, his hair remained intact.


    As someone who spent her leisure time strolling, getting massages, or soaking in hot springs, Sheng Quan felt she ought to do something.


    She turned to Gu Zhao, whose rare display of fatigue didn¡¯t escape her:


    "The company¡¯s almost a year old. I¡¯d like to select outstanding employees from management and staff for a vacation¡ªas a form of welfare. You haven¡¯t had a single proper break this year. Why not take this chance to relax?"


    Gu Zhao paused. "A vacation?"


    He¡¯d never taken one. Before adulthood, his life was consumed by relentless studying, and after starting work, the idea was laughable.


    Without a second thought, CEO Gu refused outright:


    "I don¡¯t need a vacation."


    The concept of "work-life balance" had never existed in Gu Zhao¡¯s dictionary. He¡¯d much rather be at his desk working.


    He knew Sheng Quan meant well, and though he was sparing with words to others, he made an effort to explain to his boss:


    "It¡¯s a waste of time."


    Seeing her still watching him, Gu Zhao knew she was concerned about his health.


    He wanted to insist he was fine, but given Sheng Quan¡¯s tendency to drag him for checkups¡ªand his recent exhaustion¡ªhe reluctantly offered a compromise:


    "I¡¯ll consider a vacation when airports eliminate layover times."


    Though he wouldn¡¯t go himself, he fully supported sending top employees on trips, believing it would boost morale and loyalty, motivating them to work even harder afterward.


    For new hires, such perks would also drive ambition.


    He suggested: "Send them to Starlight Manor. Employees recognizing the company¡¯s strength will benefit future growth."


    "With Starlight focusing resources on ''Stellar War,'' rumors and partners are worried about our finances, which has affected staff morale."


    Sheng Quan wasn¡¯t surprised. "Stellar War" was a money pit, and expansion costs added to the pressure. The bustling surface inevitably masked underlying concerns.


    She chuckled. "Don¡¯t worry about that. I have a solution."


    "But the manor is a great choice for employee vacations."


    The matter was settled.


    Starlight began mass recruitment while running internal evaluations.


    Ever the efficiency expert, Gu Zhao tied it to an anniversary celebration¡ªafter onboarding the new hires.


    Among the fresh faces was Yu Miao, a recent graduate.


    Yes, that girl who had watched "The Cultivator" three times and even bought tickets to visit the Ten Great Immortal Palaces¡ªYu Miao¡ªimmediately submitted her resume when she discovered Starlight Entertainment was hiring.


    It wasn¡¯t just for the chance to see celebrities. Despite her online persona constantly posting things like "AWSL, I¡¯d rush up and call her ''wifey wifey''!" in reality, Yu Miao was too shy to even ask for a photo with her favorite stars. She could only silently freak out in her heart.


    The main reason? Starlight Entertainment was famously known for its excellent benefits!


    An online friend of hers worked there and never missed a chance to rave about how great the environment was, how healthy the competition, and most importantly¡ªhow high the salaries were.


    Clearly, Yu Miao wasn¡¯t the only one who thought so. During the interview, she saw plenty of other candidates waiting, and at that moment, she was terrified she wouldn¡¯t make the cut.


    Luckily, she passed. And right after starting, she got to attend the company¡¯s anniversary event.


    The highlight? It was held on a weekday.


    The company would rather split employees into two shifts for the celebration than encroach on their rest days. Even as a first-time employee, Yu Miao knew how considerate that was.


    Plus, she¡¯d heard the anniversary wasn¡¯t just held at a luxury hotel¡ªthere were also awards for outstanding employees and a raffle. New hires couldn¡¯t compete for the awards, but they could still win prizes!


    And a hotel that fancy? Yu Miao had never even set foot in one before.


    She hadn¡¯t yet tasted the bitterness of work but was already savoring the sweetness of its perks¡ªthat was her current state of mind.


    Naturally, with her strong urge to share, she practically wanted to shout to the world about how amazing her new company was.


    That day, as she stepped off the subway and walked toward Huaxing Building, a real-life friend¡ªwho¡¯d been keeping tabs on her arrival¡ªtimed a video call perfectly.


    "Let me see! Show me what the inside of Huaxing Building looks like! All the pics online are just exteriors¡ªbarely any of the inside."


    Her friend wasn¡¯t in the city but was job-hunting there. After hearing Yu Miao gush so much, she wanted to find work in a company based in Huaxing Building too, so they could hang out more.


    Yu Miao raised her phone. "I¡¯m not there yet, just a little farther. But here¡¯s the outside¡ªsee? Super high-end, right?"


    Her friend¡¯s eyes suddenly widened. "Wait¡ªwhat¡¯s that flying in the sky? A plane? It¡¯s so low!"


    "Holy¡ª!!! It¡¯s stopping!! On the rooftop?? Hold on, don¡¯t shake the phone¡ªI¡¯m screen-recording!"


    Atop Huaxing Building, Sheng Quan stepped off the helicopter and stretched.


    "Now this is the life."


    She pulled out her phone and dialed Secretary Zhang directly:


    "Tell President Gu to come up for a break. If he can¡¯t go far, nearby is fine."


    In the CEO¡¯s office, Secretary Zhang silently glanced at his boss.


    Gu Zhao stood, his hand resting on a stack of documents.


    Sheng Quan¡¯s voice came through again: "Oh, and is President Gu listening? Don¡¯t let him bring work. Otherwise, I¡¯m dragging him for a health check."


    Gu Zhao: "..."


    The cold-faced CEO reluctantly withdrew his hand from the files.


    While Gu Zhao experienced the novelty of his first-ever vacation, a video quickly went viral online.


    #HelicopterAtHuaxingBuilding


    #PrivateHelicopterLandsOnSkyscraper


    Even residents in distant high-rises captured footage of Starlight Entertainment¡¯s chairwoman, Sheng Quan, stepping out of the helicopter.


    Amid the strong winds, Sheng Quan stood beside the aircraft, flanked by six long-legged bodyguards shielding her¡ªa scene rivaling that legendary photo taken at the gates of Starlight Manor.


    The image all but confirmed that this exorbitantly expensive private helicopter belonged to Sheng Quan.


    With its appearance, all rumors about financial troubles instantly evaporated.


    After some digging, netizens discovered the truth: this ultra-luxury "ride" had originally been custom-ordered by a foreign tycoon, but when his finances collapsed, Sheng Quan swooped in and snatched it up.


    And what did she do after acquiring it? Flew it straight to her own company.


    Those who¡¯d confidently declared Starlight was doomed: "..."


    This was ridiculous.


    Do rich people really commute by helicopter now?!

 Chapter 65

    As an avid novel enthusiast, Sheng Quan had read plenty of plots where domineering CEOs owned private jets.


    Back then, she just thought, "Wow, that¡¯s so extra."


    But when she finally got one herself... well, it was extra.


    And it felt amazing.


    Traffic in the city was horrendous. Her luxury car was undoubtedly stylish and comfortable, but being stuck on the road for one or two hours? Not so fun.


    Especially since she¡¯d been traveling frequently lately¡ªalmost daily¡ªand the traffic jams were relentless.


    Sheng Quan could afford to leisurely waste time, but as her ventures grew bigger and more demanding, she found herself increasingly intolerant of such inefficiency.


    She even suspected that one reason Gu Zhao treated the office like home was simply to avoid getting stuck in traffic.


    That was exactly the kind of thing he¡¯d do¡ªafter all, this was the same man who ordered most of his daily necessities online just to save time.


    After Sheng Quan forcibly sent Gu Zhao to a resort for a three-day break, he returned and, predictably, dove straight back into work.


    The good news? His complexion had visibly improved.


    When Sheng Quan asked what he¡¯d done during his vacation, Gu Zhao¡ªnow looking even more handsome after his rest¡ªpaused thoughtfully for a few seconds before answering:


    "Read books, looked at greenery, watched the sunset."


    Seeing Sheng Quan¡¯s momentary blank expression, Gu Zhao, prepared for this reaction, assured her he had enjoyed himself¡ªso much so that he¡¯d even brought her a gift.


    A single green plant.


    "Thanks."


    Sheng Quan took the small pot and studied the lone sprout inside for a solid ten seconds before hesitantly asking, "Is this... grass?"


    "Yes." Gu Zhao explained earnestly, "I found three blades under a stone slab. I watched them push through the cracks."


    Sheng Quan glanced at the single blade in the pot. "Three? Why is there only one here?"


    Gu Zhao replied matter-of-factly, "I kept one for myself¡ªplanning to grow it in the office. The other is Lane¡¯s. Since plants are hard to transport overseas, I¡¯m keeping his with mine until he visits China."


    Sheng Quan: "..."


    Gu Zhao even offered helpfully, "If you¡¯re worried about keeping it alive, I can take care of it. I have experience."


    Sheng Quan looked down at the tiny sprout in its miniature pot. "I think I can manage."


    Gu Zhao seemed genuinely experienced¡ªhe¡¯d even custom-ordered miniature "stone slabs" online to recreate the plant¡¯s original growing conditions.


    Sheng Quan didn¡¯t get it.


    Couldn¡¯t he just pick up rocks from the flowerbed downstairs?


    At first, keeping a single blade of grass felt odd, but Sheng Quan eventually grew accustomed to it¡ªespecially after Gu Zhao named his. Following his lead, she christened hers Fortune.


    The symbolism was... unmistakable.


    To live up to its name, Sheng Quan went shopping and, after unintentionally buying a pile of exquisite cups and dishes, finally found a delicate little pot adorned with a tiny golden ingot.


    Once her pot was ready, she snapped a photo of the two small pots on Gu Zhao¡¯s desk, then one of her own, and sent them all to Lane overseas with the caption:


    [The left one¡¯s yours.]


    Lane: [What kind of plant is this?]


    Sheng Quan: [Didn¡¯t your brother tell you? It¡¯s his gift for you. I have one too¡ªthe second photo¡¯s mine.]


    Lane: [Haha, why¡¯s he suddenly giving us gifts? Also, what plant is this? I can¡¯t tell.]


    Sheng Quan: [I forced him to take a vacation. After three days, this was his souvenir. It¡¯s wild grass¡ªI thought you knew. He said he once received a blade of grass as a gift when he was little and kept it alive for over a year.]


    Lane didn¡¯t reply for a long time. By the time Sheng Quan had finished a relaxing bath, his response finally came:


    [Tell Ryan I love the gift. I¡¯ll come to China soon to see it.]


    He actually wanted to fly to China just to look at a blade of grass.


    Truly brothers¡ªtheir tastes aligned perfectly.


    Sheng Quan mused that for future gifts, she could consider Gunnera manicata¡ªthe world¡¯s largest herb. It¡¯d make a great oversized potted plant.


    As Sheng Quan settled in to watch a drama before bed, Lane, far away in Country A, remained sprawled across his plush mattress, repeatedly reopening his phone to stare at the photo of the two wild grass sprouts.


    The vibrant green shoots, firmly rooted in their tiny pots, had an unexpected charm.


    It reminded him of the first time he¡¯d met Ryan.


    Lane hadn¡¯t always been this languid.


    He grew up in an oppressively strict environment, where elders couldn¡¯t tolerate the family¡¯s gradual decline. Starting from his grandfather¡¯s generation, marriages were arranged solely with high-IQ partners¡ªlike selective breeding for prized pets.


    Their goal? To produce exceptional offspring who could restore the family¡¯s former glory.


    Lane was the child bred for his high IQ, and naturally, he received a rigorous education from a young age.


    They hired top tutors to teach him. He wasn¡¯t allowed to rest or play like other children his age. If he dared to slack off or failed to deliver results that satisfied the elders, he would be locked in a terrifying dark room.


    For a child so young, every day was exhausting. But back then, he didn¡¯t even realize how wrong their treatment of him was¡ªbecause to prevent him from being "tempted by the outside world," they didn¡¯t even let him interact with other kids.


    But Lane had always been stubborn. He planned an escape, only to get lost in what seemed like an enormous garden to him. Eventually, he stumbled upon another dark room.


    Inside was another child.


    The two never even saw each other, separated by the door. When the other child asked who he was, the frightened little Lane, afraid of being reported, plucked a blade of grass from the ground and slid it through the gap under the door.


    "Be quiet, okay? This room is dark and scary, right? I sneaked here to see you. This is a gift for you."


    Truthfully, Lane had almost forgotten this incident over the years. But now, as he recalled it, the distant memory seemed to replay vividly before his eyes.


    He still remembered how the child in the dark room stayed silent for a long time. Just as he began to feel uneasy, the blade of grass was carefully pulled inside.


    Then came a very soft whisper:


    "Thank you."


    Back then, Lane faintly caught the scent of blood. Terrified, he ran away as fast as he could, only to be caught by the adults shortly after.


    Later, he learned that the child¡¯s name was Ryan, who also had a Chinese name¡ªGu Zhao.


    Like Lane, Ryan was a genius. But as a mixed-race child, he was even less favored by the adults. Yet they still pinned their hopes on his brilliant mind, subjecting him to harsher and more unbearable treatment than Lane.


    Unlike Lane¡¯s parents, who, despite their neglect, occasionally shielded him, Ryan¡¯s parents never protected him. They relentlessly drilled into him the idea that he "must succeed," never caring that he was still just a child.


    In the end, the family did succeed in raising two geniuses. But neither of them was willing to fulfill their elders¡¯ dreams of reviving the family¡¯s glory.


    On the day he came of age, Ryan left the family for good.


    As for Lane, he stayed¡ªbut only to live lazily, happily leeching off the family. Every time he saw those people despairing over his "wasted potential," looking like they might cough up blood in frustration, he felt pure joy.


    To outsiders, Lane¡¯s life seemed carefree and enviable. And in many ways, it was. But deep down, he knew there was an ever-growing void in his heart. No matter how much he indulged or sought pleasure, it only expanded with time.


    But then, at some point¡ªperhaps after taking on this job¡ªhe realized he wasn¡¯t as resistant to work as he¡¯d thought.


    Especially when the boss was Sheng Quan.


    Lane rolled over in bed and sent Gu Zhao a message:


    [Has the void in your heart been filled yet?]


    They¡¯d never discussed this before, but he knew the other man would understand.


    ¡ªBeep.


    The screen lit up. Lane immediately grabbed his phone¡ªsure enough, it was Gu Zhao¡¯s reply.


    [I think it has.]


    Lane: [Any particular reason?]


    In China, Gu Zhao gazed out at the night view outside his window. After a few seconds, he replied: [Because the sunset is beautiful.]


    [After seeing it, I remembered how much I used to long for it as a child. And now, I¡¯ve finally seen it.]


    Lane: [Good point. I wanted to see the sunset too back then. Damn tutors always kept me studying till 11. Alright, I¡¯ll make sure to watch it properly today.]


    [Oh, by the way, it¡¯s 11 PM in China now, right?]


    [Why aren¡¯t you asleep? Are you secretly working?]


    [I¡¯m telling Sheng Quan. Hahahahaha.]


    Gu Zhao: "......"


    Lane: [Speaking of, what was your goal again? Turning Xing Mang into a world-class top-tier company?]


    [Count me in. I¡¯d like to know what it feels like to stand at the top too.]


    Gu Zhao¡¯s expression softened slightly as he prepared to reply. But before he could type, another message popped up:


    [But I¡¯m still telling on you. Hahahahaha.]


    The next morning, Sheng Quan woke up to a plea for help from Lane. He claimed he¡¯d accidentally angered Gu Zhao and was now blocked¡ªbegging her to put in a good word for him.


    The freshly awakened Sheng Quan: Wow, managing to piss off Gu Zhao? Impressive.


    She cheerfully told them to "sort out your brotherly feud yourselves" and happily boarded her private helicopter to head to the film set.


    Settling into the plush seat, Sheng Quan couldn¡¯t help but gush to 006 for the nth time:


    [This is amazing. So much better than any luxury car.]


    The helicopters she had seen before were all the kind found at tourist attractions¡ªyou know, the ones that cost a few hundred bucks for a one- or two-minute ride.


    Sheng Quan had once passed by a tourist area while running errands and spotted a cramped helicopter squeezing in four people, roaring loudly as it flew away, only to return moments later.


    That had been her impression of helicopters until now.


    But the one she had purchased was different. For starters, the noise inside was minimal, the space was spacious, it was fast yet safe, and it even had an entertainment system.


    The commonality of all expensive modes of transportation in the world was probably this: their aesthetics were never lacking.


    Stylish on the outside, comfortable on the inside, soaring through the sky without obstruction¡ªand every time she boarded or disembarked, it felt absolutely exhilarating.


    Plus, helicopters were useful for film shoots. Even though she could only afford this one, it didn¡¯t matter. They could use it for on-location filming, and for the rest, Tianying could rely on special effects.


    006 was also thrilled for Sheng Quan. It hadn¡¯t originally had any particular feelings about helicopters, but seeing how much its host loved this one, it grew fond of them too:


    [If Host likes it, we¡¯ll buy a few more in the future and switch between them.]


    [Yes! Switch between them!]


    Sheng Quan, in high spirits, glanced down at the traffic jam below. The thought of arriving at her destination soon made her already great mood even better.


    Hahaha, goodbye, traffic jams.


    She adjusted her headphones and picked up the microphone provided in the cabin: [006, let¡¯s sing some karaoke?]


    006 loved singing and immediately agreed: [Yes!!!]


    Singing all the way, both host and system were in great spirits. That evening, the lottery opened, and riding on her good mood, Sheng Quan hummed a tune as she started drawing prizes.


    This time, there were many prizes, mostly things Sheng Quan had recently seen or wanted. The wheel spun, and the pointer landed on a prize neither of them had expected.


    Sheng Quan: [...Wow. Unexpected, but also not entirely surprising.]


    006 felt a little guilty: [Sorry, Host. It¡¯s probably because of me...]


    It had realized by now that the prize pool was connected to it.


    Sheng Quan: [Why apologize? If it really is because of you, then I¡¯d say¡ªwell done!]


    Her eyes sparkled as she looked at the prizes and their quantities displayed in the pool: [I love these prizes. I really, really love them.]


    [I can¡¯t wait to see them.]


    Since Interstellar War officially began filming, the entire crew had been in a state of nonstop busyness.


    Gao Shi¡¯s work on set had been going smoothly. Though the data collection tasks were a bit monotonous, in such a large production, there was always something new happening to break the routine.


    For example, whenever Chairman Sheng visited the set, even Jiang Zhen¡ªthe male lead, who rarely smiled¡ªwould wear a faint grin. Yan Hui, Hua Qing, and the others would almost always accompany her.


    But it wasn¡¯t just them. Which actor on set didn¡¯t like catching Chairman Sheng¡¯s attention?


    Gao Shi figured Chairman Sheng¡¯s standards for beauty must be sky-high, given how many stunning men and women surrounded her.


    Especially since, thanks to some rumor that Chairman Sheng liked actors with great physiques, nearly everyone in the crew had become obsessed with working out. The results were impressive¡ªtoned abs, well-defined V-lines, paired with the actors¡¯ already gorgeous faces. Even Gao Shi had to admit privately that the rumor had some truth to it.


    Who wouldn¡¯t enjoy looking at that?


    Months passed in a blur of busy days, but there was always a sense of energy and purpose. Gao Shi hadn¡¯t even considered the possibility of working abroad again.


    One day, after returning from a break, he arrived on set as usual, only to find everyone buzzing with excitement, heading toward the open field. Some actors were even sprinting over, eyes shining.


    Gao Shi¡¯s first thought: They must be filming a shirtless scene.


    Ahem. Generally, if work wasn¡¯t too hectic, people loved gathering around to watch¡ªpurely for the aesthetic appreciation, of course.


    He really wanted to join them, but today¡¯s workload was a bit heavy, so he reluctantly gave up. Just as he finished setting up his equipment, a crew member who had stayed overnight came jogging over.


    Spotting him, the crew member waved urgently:


    ¡°Gao Shi, what took you so long? Hurry to the open field! There¡¯s a surprise! So cool! I¡¯ve never seen anything like this in my life¡ªit¡¯s insane!¡±


    Gao Shi¡¯s eyes lit up. ¡°Is Jiang Zhen filming a fight scene? Shirtless??¡±


    If so, he had to go. He was a Jiang Zhen fan, and watching him film fight scenes in person was something he wouldn¡¯t miss for the world.


    The crew member blinked. ¡°No, Jiang Zhen¡¯s filming the mecha-beast scene today.¡±


    He tried to be mysterious: ¡°But this is even cooler than Jiang Zhen¡¯s fight scenes! Just come see for yourself.¡±


    Gao Shi plopped back down. ¡°I don¡¯t believe it. No one¡¯s cooler than Jiang Zhen.¡±


    ¡°Seriously, seriously! I¡¯m not lying! Come on, Gao Shi!¡±


    The special effects team was small, and they all got along well. The crew member simply grabbed Gao Shi¡¯s arm and started pulling him toward the open field.


    Gao Shi sighed and followed.


    Alright, he had to admit his curiosity was piqued just a little.


    Turning the corner to the open field, he froze at the sight before him.


    ¡°Holy...¡±


    He muttered in disbelief:


    ¡°Are these rented???¡±


    A crew member grinned proudly: ¡°Chairman Sheng Quan bought them¡ªfor us to film with. We can even take samples later.¡±


    ¡°Gao Shi, just tell me, aren¡¯t they freaking cool?!¡±


    ¡°Bought? ?????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????These were actually bought?¡±


    Gao Shi¡¯s eyes were glued to the scene: ¡°Cool? They¡¯re beyond cool! They¡¯re absolutely mind-blowing!!!¡±


    ¡°Chairman Sheng Quan is really... She actually bought so many of them.¡±


    Spread across the vast open field were rows of sleek, jet-black helicopters.


    Larger than standard models, their streamlined designs exuded a sharp, aggressive aura, unmistakably expensive.


    Lined up together, their sheer presence was almost overwhelming¡ªand so was their price tag.


    Sheng Quan stood with her arms crossed, admiration gleaming in her eyes.


    If she hadn¡¯t won these thirteen helicopters in a raffle, she would never have splurged like this¡ªeach one alone cost seventy million.


    It was nearly impossible to resist the allure of over a dozen cutting-edge private helicopters assembled like this, and Gao Shi, a longtime enthusiast, was no exception.


    He was utterly stunned:


    ¡°This many? My god! Even TV shows wouldn¡¯t go this far, right?!!¡±


    Noticing his awestruck expression, the crew member gloated: ¡°Told you they¡¯re cooler than Jiang Zhen¡¯s fight scenes.¡±


    Gao Shi nodded reflexively: ¡°Yeah, yeah...¡±


    Then, mid-nod, he suddenly snapped back to reality: ¡°They¡¯re amazing! But, but...¡±


    He tore his gaze away from the black helicopters with visible reluctance.


    Gritting his teeth and squeezing his eyes shut, he blurted:


    ¡°Jiang Zhen is still the coolest!!¡±

 Chapter 66

    Thirteen helicopters parked together made for a truly spectacular sight.


    The scene became even more jaw-dropping when Sheng Quan mentioned that all thirteen had been purchased specifically for the film crew¡¯s shooting needs.


    Even though everyone already knew their big boss was wealthy, thirteen helicopters? That was next-level extravagance.


    Many in the crew were familiar with helicopters, and those who weren¡¯t had at least taken an interest after the recent news about "Chairman Sheng purchasing a private helicopter for her commute."


    China hadn¡¯t yet opened up private airspace, meaning personal helicopter flights required prior approval from air traffic control.


    Getting clearance wasn¡¯t difficult, but it also meant that aside from filming purposes, Sheng Quan¡¯s fleet of private helicopters wouldn¡¯t have much practical use.


    Yet she bought them anyway¡ªand not the cheap kind, either.


    The entire crew buzzed with excitement as they marveled at the aircraft. The more their boss splurged, the clearer it became that she had immense faith in Stellar War. Why else would she invest so heavily beyond the already massive budget?


    Even established actors couldn¡¯t resist circling the helicopters, inspecting them up and down.


    "I¡¯ve been in this industry for decades, and I¡¯ve never seen anything like this," muttered a veteran actor playing an alien role, shaking his head in awe.


    "I thought that crew spending 20 million to rent helicopters was impressive, but Stellar War just went ahead and bought them outright."


    "People always said Starry Horizon had deep pockets, but I figured it was exaggerated," another actor chimed in, eyes alight with exhilaration. "Turns out they¡¯re even more generous than the rumors."


    With such a hefty upfront investment, marketing would undoubtedly be just as lavish. Even if the film underperformed, it would still have a solid foundation¡ªand for minor-role actors like them, that meant a real shot at breaking out.


    "Don¡¯t worry, this movie¡¯s going to be huge," the older actor declared, far more confident than his younger counterparts.


    Sci-fi is all about spectacle. Look at our props, the high-end equipment for special effects¡ªthis setup rivals even international blockbuster sets.


    The younger actors¡¯ blood pumped faster at his words. "If our movie blows up like The Cultivator did, we¡¯ll all get our big break."


    The Cultivator was arguably the most actor-boosting hit of the decade. Its ripple effects reached not just the leads but even those with mere cameos, turning them into recognizable faces overnight.


    For these unknown actors, that level of recognition was already a dream.


    And for the truly ambitious? They dared to fantasize about following in Jiang Zhen¡¯s footsteps¡ªexploding into global fame for a role that wasn¡¯t even a lead, like his iconic Daoist Xingyun.


    "Hey, is it true Jiang Zhen was a martial arts instructor before The Cultivator?" someone asked.


    "Yeah, I saw the interview," another replied. "One of the actors he trained was doing fight scenes in The Cultivator as an extra. Their skills stood out, and when Chairman Sheng asked who taught them, they named Jiang Zhen.


    She had him audition on the spot, and that¡¯s how he landed Daoist Xingyun."


    The questioner sighed enviously. "From instructor to A-list? That¡¯s straight out of a drama."


    "But..." Another actor frowned, gaze drifting ahead. "How did no one scout Jiang Zhen before? With his looks, you¡¯d think every crew he worked with would¡¯ve begged him to act."


    Following his line of sight, the group spotted Jiang Zhen himself¡ªfresh from a workout, damp hair tousled as he toweled it dry, sleeves casually rolled up to reveal defined wrists. His white shirt clung slightly from residual moisture, the fabric hinting at the sculpted abs beneath as he leaned down to match Sheng Quan¡¯s height.


    Even the way he listened was magnetic, his usually sharp, lion-like gaze softening into focused intensity.


    Several male actors exhaled in unison.


    "That¡¯s just unfair levels of handsome."


    Jiang Zhen didn¡¯t need to try. His mere presence commanded the scene. Most days, he carried the lazy vigilance of a lion¡ªcalm but always ready to strike.


    "And he was just a martial arts instructor? Were casting directors blind back then?!"


    The veteran actor chuckled knowingly. "Fame polishes a person. Maybe he wasn¡¯t this dazzling before the spotlight."


    Sheng Quan actually shared the same sentiment as them. Her gaze couldn¡¯t help but linger for a moment on Jiang Zhen¡¯s faintly visible abs, feeling that ever since The Cultivator aired, Jiang Zhen¡¯s charm had been skyrocketing nonstop.


    At the very least, she had deliberately sought out Jiang Zhen¡¯s dramas from ten years ago. Back then, he was undeniably handsome, but in terms of sheer charisma, the present version of him was easily ten times¡ªif not more¡ªcaptivating than his younger self.


    Moreover, she remembered reading a scientific tidbit about how men¡¯s muscles typically start aging around their thirties. Yet Jiang Zhen¡¯s physique now was practically flawless¡ªnot an ounce too much, not a bit too little¡ªperfectly controlled to showcase his well-built frame to its best advantage.


    ¡°Have you been deliberately working on your physique?¡±


    ¡°Yes, for the role. I¡¯ve been training for over five months now.¡± Jiang Zhen didn¡¯t miss the appreciation in Sheng Quan¡¯s eyes. He pressed his lips together, the tips of his ears tinged slightly red. ¡°Do you... think it¡¯s alright?¡±


    ¡°Alright? It¡¯s more than alright. With a body like yours, you could easily rank top five internationally.¡±


    Sheng Quan now completely understood why Jiang Zhen¡¯s fanbase was growing so rapidly. If she were in their shoes, she¡¯d stan him too.


    Especially since, beneath his sharp and wild exterior, Jiang Zhen¡¯s personality was surprisingly reserved once you got to know him.


    Reserved, as in¡ªdespite being an action actor who frequently had to show off his physique¡ªhe still got flustered when complimented on his body.


    If it came from someone of the same gender, it was manageable. But if it was from the opposite sex? A few extra praises, and his ears would instantly turn red. And around Sheng Quan, he always made a conscious effort to tone down his intimidating aura, afraid of scaring her off.


    Sheng Quan figured it probably stemmed from Jiang Zhen¡¯s upbringing in a strict, male-only martial arts school. Later, when he started acting, his days were packed with grueling schedules¡ªback then, action actors practically staked their bodies for their craft.


    Then came the accident, which left him bedridden for years, cutting off almost all social connections. In other words:


    Though he looked like a ferocious predator, Jiang Zhen was, at heart, a gentle herbivore.


    Of course, this depended on who he was with. After getting familiar with him, Sheng Quan found that he really did have a good temper. Despite his bashfulness, if he noticed her watching during training, he¡¯d still blush and avert his gaze before tentatively asking:


    ¡°Want to take some photos?¡±


    ¡ªBecause Sheng Quan loved photographing actors during their intense workout sessions. If she captured something particularly striking, she¡¯d occasionally share it on her Weibo for everyone to admire.


    Most of her Weibo posts went something like:


    ¡°This actress¡¯s abs are absolutely stunning¡ªmore screen time for her! @[Actor¡¯s Name]¡±


    ¡°That chest, that back view¡ªI¡¯m telling the scriptwriters to give him more scenes! @[Actor¡¯s Name]¡±


    Sheng Quan¡¯s follower count wasn¡¯t any smaller than that of the average celebrity. Aside from her own fans, she also had the fanbases of actors under Starlight Entertainment. Every time she posted a shoutout, the tagged actor would inevitably gain a fresh wave of admirers.


    At one point, she even mused that if her Weibo account ever took sponsored ads, the results would probably leave advertisers ecstatic.


    But so far, no one had approached her for promotions¡ªlikely because she gave off the vibe of someone who could outright buy the entire advertising company.


    In any case, under these circumstances, the actors in the crew were always eager for Sheng Quan to photograph them.


    After all, it wasn¡¯t just a sign of good rapport with the big boss¡ªit also meant exposure and buzz. Who would want to miss such a golden opportunity to boost their visibility?


    But Jiang Zhen was definitely not part of that ¡°who.¡±


    So whenever he took the initiative to invite her, Sheng Quan always treasured the moment, snapping multiple shots, carefully selecting the best lighting and angles, then gleefully posting them on Weibo to watch the comment section erupt with screams of ¡°I¡¯m deceased¡± and ¡°Jiang-ge, kill me already.¡±


    Today was no exception. The helicopter was just too cool, so Sheng Quan even had Jiang Zhen pose in the pilot¡¯s seat for a video.


    Jiang Zhen, whose entire being radiated a wild, untamed energy, looked impossibly well-matched with the dual-purpose military-civilian helicopter¡ªso much so that he nearly rivaled Brother Jiang in compatibility.


    Sheng Quan alternated between admiring the stunning shots she¡¯d taken and scrolling through the comments, itching to join the chorus of ¡°AWSL¡± and ¡°Jiang-ge¡¯s murdering me again¡± with a burner account.


    Sitting right beside her, sharing the same expression while browsing the comments, was Ming Qi.


    Her role wasn¡¯t extensive, and after just a month on set, she was already wrapping up, scheduled to leave that very night.


    After thoroughly appreciating the... ahem... visual feast with her boss, the ever-skilled sweet-talker clung to Sheng Quan¡¯s arm, swaying it gently.


    ¡°Take me with you, pleaaase, President Sheng. I want to go to the anniversary celebration too¡ªI¡¯ve never been to one before.¡±


    Not only was she adorably pretty, but her voice was soft and sugary, dialing up the pleading tone to heart-melting levels. ¡°I¡¯ll wear a mask and the hat you gave me. No one will recognize me!¡±


    Sheng Quan, however, stood firm. ¡°No way. You¡¯re way too popular right now. Do you want to get mobbed in a crowded place?¡±


    When Ming Qi first met Sheng Quan on Singing With You, she was still a little nervous, but as it turned out, there was a reason why someone was so universally adored.


    She was pure-hearted and innocent, sweet-talking and coquettish, and never hid her true thoughts. Veterans like Hua Qing and Yuan Zixin, who had seen their fair share of scheming, couldn¡¯t help but favor her.


    Well, Sheng Quan was one of those veterans too.


    But the thing was, Ming Qi was just too sweet¡ªwhether it was her looks, her voice, or her personality, she hit every single one of Sheng Quan¡¯s aesthetic preferences perfectly.


    And though she was a bit naive, she was inherently well-behaved and never made things difficult for others. Like now, after being firmly rejected by Sheng Quan, the beautiful girl¡¯s face showed a hint of disappointment, but she still nodded obediently:


    "Alright."


    Her large, slightly rounded eyes, glistening with moisture, looked over pleadingly. To curry favor, she even carefully peeled an orange that Yu Xiangwan had brought over and handed it to Sheng Quan, her gaze full of anticipation:


    "Then can I go back with you later, President Sheng? I¡¯ve never ridden in a private helicopter before."


    She even added, "I just learned a new dance¡ªwould you like to see it? My teacher said I dance really well."


    Sheng Quan had principles... well, she had no principles when it came to beauties.


    "Then let¡¯s go back together later. Want to film it on the helicopter?"


    "Yes!" Ming Qi immediately beamed, hugging Sheng Quan¡¯s arm sweetly. "Thank you, President Sheng! You¡¯re the best."


    Ah~ A beauty¡¯s coquetry was so sweet.


    Sheng Quan admired the lovely, sugary girl up close, her mood soaring.


    She decided she¡¯d tell Yuan Zixin as soon as she got back¡ªMing Qi should be cast as the sweet female lead in a drama. She¡¯d definitely skyrocket in popularity.


    Yu Xiangwan placed new snacks and desserts on the table, refilled Sheng Quan¡¯s glass of juice, and adjusted his glasses, pretending not to notice Ming Qi sneakily grabbing two nuts to munch on despite needing to watch her figure.


    When it came to people Sheng Quan liked, he always showed a little extra leniency.


    "The arrangements for those 27 actors to get their private pilot licenses have been made. Will these helicopters stay with the production crew permanently?"


    "The hangar is already under construction near the set." The fate of these over a dozen aircraft wasn¡¯t hard to settle. Aside from the actors needing licenses, Xingmang Entertainment would also need to hire a team of professional helicopter pilots.


    Though ?????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????pilot salaries weren¡¯t cheap, the thought of soon owning over a dozen helicopters still thrilled Sheng Quan.


    "Coordinate with the military and see if we can arrange joint exercises later. These 13 helicopters are dual-use¡ªcivilian and military. With some adjustments, they¡¯ll be ready."


    "Understood."


    Sheng Quan suddenly remembered something else. "Oh, and you should get a license too. It¡¯ll make travel more convenient. Even if we have to apply for clearance, it¡¯s still better than sitting in traffic."


    Yu Xiangwan was taken aback.


    "Such expensive private helicopters... I can use them?"


    "Of course." Sheng Quan patted his shoulder. "With all your hard work, you could fly two helicopters and it still wouldn¡¯t be too much."


    Remembering the Outstanding Employee Estate Tour, she added with a smile,


    "Don¡¯t forget to come to the anniversary celebration tomorrow. You¡¯re the outstanding employee¡ªyou¡¯ll be receiving an award."


    "Understood." Yu Xiangwan replied meekly, his striking peach-blossom eyes reflecting only Sheng Quan¡¯s figure.


    While neither of them was paying attention to her, Ming Qi stealthily snatched another cookie.


    Then she noticed that Yu Xiangwan, the usually composed production supervisor, was completely different around Sheng Quan. This was the first time she¡¯d seen him show such obvious anticipation.


    Yu Xiangwan really was looking forward to it. Sitting up straight, he gazed at Sheng Quan with hopeful expectation. "Will you be the one presenting the award?"


    Of course she would.


    Sheng Quan had always been the one receiving awards¡ªshe¡¯d never handed one out before. She¡¯d already decided what to wear tomorrow.


    Oh, and she¡¯d bought a new bag¡ªridiculously expensive but stunningly beautiful. President Sheng had decided she¡¯d carry it tomorrow.


    With that confirmation, Yu Xiangwan looked even happier.


    Clearly, more than the award or the prize itself, what he truly wanted was for Sheng Quan to personally present it to him.


    He didn¡¯t care how many outstanding employees there were or how grand the prize was. As long as it was President Sheng giving it to him, that was enough.


    That day, Yu Xiangwan¡ªwho was usually so diligent, practically living at the set to oversee every major and minor detail¡ªleft unusually early. He needed to go home and pick out his outfit for tomorrow.


    Xu Man had originally planned to just grab something slightly nicer from her closet, but seeing even Yu Xiangwan, who practically lived at the set, rushing home to prepare for the anniversary celebration, she suddenly felt she couldn¡¯t fall behind.


    Now that she thought about it, this was Xingmang¡¯s first-ever anniversary celebration¡ªof course it had to be treated with importance.


    She handed off her tasks to the rest of the directing team, planning to squeeze in a spa treatment tonight so she could make a proper appearance tomorrow.


    Sheng Quan, who had been at home picking out clothes, clapped her hands when she heard Xu Man¡¯s plan.


    "Let¡¯s get Minister Yuan to come too. The three of us can hit the spa tonight, then go shopping. My treat."


    Gu Zhao set down the documents in his hand and instructed Secretary Zhang, "Call a meeting with all departments later."


    "Director Yuan was just summoned by Chairman Sheng Quan, so she probably won¡¯t be able to attend," Secretary Zhang replied promptly. As a highly diligent secretary, he was always aware of Yuan Zixin¡¯s whereabouts¡ªthough this had absolutely nothing to do with the fact that he often gossiped with her.


    "Chairman Sheng Quan?" Gu Zhao frowned. "At this hour?"


    "Yes. It¡¯s probably for tomorrow¡¯s anniversary celebration. Chairman Sheng Quan plans to buy some suitable outfits tonight."


    Not that Chairman Sheng Quan lacked clothes¡ªher wardrobe was already overflowing with coordinated sets¡ªbut that was beside the point.


    "Buying clothes," Gu Zhao murmured, briefly glancing away from his screen. "Did Chairman Sheng Quan invite anyone else besides Director Yuan?"


    Secretary Zhang was about to say, "That¡¯s Chairman Sheng Quan¡¯s private matter, I wouldn¡¯t know," when his icy boss added, "You absolutely asked around."


    "...Also Director Xu Man. And Supervisor Yu Xiangwan seems to have left the set early too, likely preparing for tomorrow¡¯s celebration."


    Gu Zhao showed no visible reaction, but his gaze lifted slightly.


    Secretary Zhang stole a glance at his boss, who had been working all day. "Should I notify the other departments about the meeting now?"


    "No, postpone it." Gu Zhao stood up, straightening his tie. "No overtime tonight. Everyone should rest early. For tomorrow¡¯s anniversary celebration, encourage them to dress their best."


    "Understood."


    Secretary Zhang maintained a respectful expression, but his eyes followed Gu Zhao as he headed to the lounge. He wasn¡¯t the least bit surprised.


    He¡¯d bet anything that Gu Zhao was going to pick out an outfit.


    That evening, the Xingmang company group chat buzzed with the announcement: employees attending the anniversary celebration were encouraged to dress as stylishly as possible.


    Overnight, Xingmang staff rummaged through their closets in a frenzy, while others took advantage of the remaining daylight to hit the stores for last-minute shopping.


    And shopping was always more fun with friends.


    Yu Miao, a new hire who was thrilled to attend the celebration, had already seen her colleagues flaunting their outfits in the group chat¡ªeach one more elegant than the last.


    Seizing the rare opportunity to wear formal attire without restraint, Yu Miao was beyond excited.


    After two hours of deliberation, she settled on a stunning dress.


    The only dilemma was the color.


    Holding up two options, she asked her friend, "Which looks better¡ªblack or red?"


    Her friend was baffled. "Red, I guess. But isn¡¯t this just a company anniversary? Why buy a new dress? Isn¡¯t this one a bit pricey?"


    "You don¡¯t get it. Our company culture is all about looking polished and put-together," Yu Miao chirped, admiring the dress. "Remember how you complained about that smelly guy at your office? That would never fly at Xingmang."


    "We even have shower rooms to keep employees fresh."


    Her friend blinked. "Wait, your coworkers are that hygiene-conscious?"


    "It¡¯s not just them¡ªit¡¯s company policy." Yu Miao loved it. "Rumor has it Chairman Sheng Quan is a bit of an aesthetics fanatic. Might be why."


    "Hey, have you considered joining Xingmang? You¡¯re way more skilled than me. I heard they¡¯ll be hiring again once things stabilize."


    Her friend shook her head. "No way. I¡¯m fine where I am."


    "And honestly, if my boss demanded we dress up for an anniversary party just because they¡¯re shallow, I¡¯d find it annoying."


    Yu Miao handed the dress to the sales associate and grinned. "We enjoy looking good too, but yeah, there¡¯s some brownie points involved. Chairman Sheng Quan has this habit..."


    Her friend raised an eyebrow. "What habit?"


    Yu Miao smirked. "Sometimes, when she¡¯s happy, she drops red envelopes in the group chat."


    Her friend¡¯s eyes lit up. "Big ones?"


    "Not huge," Yu Miao admitted.


    "But when Chairman Sheng Quan sends one, Supervisor Yu Xiangwan¡ªwho¡¯s usually on set¡ªfollows up with another."


    "Then Gu Zhao joins in."


    "And after Gu Zhao, Lane¡ªone of our foreign execs based in Country A¡ªalso sends one."


    So whenever Chairman Sheng Quan started it, the chat would flood with red envelopes. The payout was insane.


    Her friend: "..."


    Yu Miao: "But that¡¯s not even the main draw. Tomorrow¡¯s celebration has a raffle¡ªall employees are eligible. The grand prize hasn¡¯t been announced yet, but word is one reward is 100,000 yuan in cash."


    "Plus, the best part? If your celebration outfit falls within the budget, the company reimburses 10%."


    "Chairman Sheng Quan announced it in the group an hour ago. Right now, everyone¡¯s ecstatic¡ªexcept Finance, probably. Hah!"


    Her friend: "..."


    10% reimbursement...


    A cash prize of one hundred thousand...


    "Red! Bet on red!"


    "Do it now!"


    "And also, your company... when exactly are you planning to hire new people?"

 Chapter 67

    At the Starlight Entertainment anniversary celebration, Sheng Quan was momentarily dazzled when she saw Yu Xiangwan walking toward her with a smile.


    Then Gu Zhao arrived, and she was dazzled all over again.


    These two were already exceptionally good-looking, the type who usually paid great attention to their appearance. But tonight, dressed to the nines, it was no exaggeration to say they practically glowed.


    Sheng Quan unabashedly admired them while thinking how naturally gifted they were.


    Despite their busy schedules, their looks hadn¡¯t diminished¡ªif anything, they¡¯d only improved.


    But then she remembered that both of them were her subordinates, and her mood lifted even more.


    Starlight Entertainment had a sizable workforce. Though the anniversary celebration was split into two batches, the company had still booked a grand hall in the hotel to accommodate everyone.


    As the event time approached, the seats gradually filled up.


    With some time to spare, Sheng Quan leaned against Xu Man, chatting. Xu Man was mainly trying to pry details about tonight¡¯s prizes, while Sheng Quan insisted on keeping the mystery alive.


    Xu Man: "..."


    The more Sheng Quan played up the "mysterious prizes" angle, the more eager Xu Man became.


    The first anniversary celebration of Starlight Entertainment officially began.


    Just like a year-end party, employees were expected to perform.


    Every department gave it their all.


    The previous internal competition video had significantly boosted team morale. Everyone pooled their ideas, and seeing the final product earn praise and admiration had been incredibly satisfying.


    Especially since the company had even handed out consolation prizes to departments that didn¡¯t win¡ªthough not as lavish as the five-award-winning team¡¯s haul, it still drove home one point:


    Starlight never let hardworking employees go unrewarded.


    So for this anniversary performance, the previously awarded departments were striving to win again, while those who¡¯d only received consolation prizes were determined to reclaim glory.


    Perhaps without even realizing it, they¡¯d developed a deep sense of belonging and collective pride in the company and their teams.


    Sheng Quan noticed.


    And it made her immensely pleased.


    Especially when she saw how entertaining all the performances were.


    Skits, dances, songs¡ªeven a cross-talk act.


    Starlight¡¯s employees, handpicked from the best of the best, delivered one engaging performance after another.


    ¡ª"It¡¯s just one cent short? Fine, I¡¯ll give you a hundred bucks, how about that?"


    ¡ª"Just?! One cent?! Alright, today we die together!!"


    "HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!!!"


    When the finance department¡¯s skit reached this point, the audience erupted in laughter. The hilarious acting had everyone in stitches, Sheng Quan included¡ªshe was laughing so hard she nearly toppled over.


    Yu Xiangwan steadied her, glancing at her teary-eyed mirth before smiling faintly himself.


    Gu Zhao, who usually lacked a sense of humor, found himself smiling too as Sheng Quan laughed uncontrollably, even slapping his thigh in amusement.


    The performers on stage, seeing the company¡¯s top brass thoroughly entertained, redoubled their efforts.


    The laughter spilled out into the hallway, piquing the curiosity of the hotel staff.


    "It¡¯s just an anniversary party, right? Why¡¯s it so lively?"


    Most company celebrations weren¡¯t exactly quiet¡ªpeople clapped and cheered on cue¡ªbut none were this raucous. The noise was practically lifting the roof.


    Another staff member nudged him and gestured ahead. "Not just lively¡ªlook who¡¯s there?"


    The first employee followed his gaze and nearly jumped. "The general manager? What¡¯s he doing here?"


    Up front, standing where the servers usually would, was their hotel¡¯s general manager¡ªcurrently applauding with a smile.


    This ?????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????was rare. Their hotel, while not five-star, was well-regarded in the industry¡ªpricey and high-end, attracting many major companies for events.


    But usually, it was the managers who handled things. The general manager showing up personally? That was a first in his tenure.


    Peering inside, the employee muttered, "This company doesn¡¯t seem that big¡ªStarlight Entertainment? Sounds familiar, but not enough to warrant the GM¡¯s presence. When did he even get here?"


    "He¡¯s been here since early on, overseeing the setup," the more informed colleague whispered. "The company¡¯s mid-sized, actually. But the GM¡¯s here on the chairman¡¯s orders."


    The chairman?!


    Now the employee was truly shocked. Their chairman, who owned multiple businesses beyond the hotel, was what he¡¯d consider ultra-wealthy. And he¡¯d personally intervened?


    He quickly rationalized it: "Maybe the company¡¯s got family ties or something? I caught a glimpse earlier¡ªtheir management¡¯s mostly young."


    Rich kids starting businesses¡ªnothing new.


    But for one to foster such dedication and affection from employees? He had a feeling this company would go far.


    Inside, the festivities continued. Gu Zhao even took the stage to deliver a speech. Dressed in a light green suit that accentuated his sharp, striking features, his cool demeanor gave off an untouchable, almost divine beauty.


    Total CEO-from-a-novel vibes.


    Clapping along, Sheng Quan mused that it was no wonder Gu Zhao remained popular among staff despite never bothering to charm them. Made perfect sense.


    Though usually robotic, Gu Zhao was surprisingly good at rallying spirits. Sheng Quan suspected he¡¯d studied motivational videos.


    "In just one year, Starlight Entertainment has signed 121 artists. Through our collective efforts, among these 121, the number who¡¯ve reached ten million followers is..."


    "This year, average salaries at Starlight have risen by 35%..."


    "This year, Starlight has grown from a small team to..."


    With employees already feeling a sense of belonging, Gu Zhao¡¯s words filled them with genuine pride.


    Yes, this was their company. Their Starlight.


    Salaries rising, careers advancing¡ªthey¡¯d built this together.


    When Gu Zhao really put his mind to inspiring people, resistance was futile. When someone¡ªno one knew who¡ªshouted "Starlight will prevail!", the rest instantly followed:


    "STARLIGHT WILL PREVAIL!!"


    "STARLIGHT WILL PREVAIL!!!"


    They believed in this future and were ready to fight for it.


    Amid the roaring cheers, Gu Zhao stood bathed in light, smiling faintly at Sheng Quan:


    "Now, let¡¯s welcome the chairman of Starlight Entertainment¡ªSheng Quan."


    Sheng Quan stepped onto the stage one steady step at a time.


    As the lights brightened, they illuminated her figure, casting a radiant glow.


    "It¡¯s so lively here. This anniversary celebration feels just like New Year¡¯s."


    The waitstaff outside couldn¡¯t help but eavesdrop, mainly because the employee performances at this company were genuinely entertaining.


    Another server, who had just come on shift, was equally curious. "I think they¡¯re at the outstanding employee awards now. I wonder what the prizes are."


    "What else could they be? It¡¯s always the same few things. The generous companies hand out cash¡ªten or twenty thousand¡ªwhile the stingy ones give out rice cookers."


    As they chatted, they suddenly heard the young chairwoman announce from the stage:


    "Cash rewards of ten thousand per person, a fifteen percent salary increase across the board, and a ten-day all-expenses-paid international vacation¡ªwith one family member included. Accommodations: Starlight Manor."


    The employees erupted into cheers.


    Starlight Manor!!!


    Chairwoman Sheng¡¯s Starlight Manor!!!


    This was the luxurious estate that had been featured in international media. To call it a resort would be an understatement¡ªit had everything one could dream of for a perfect getaway.


    The outstanding employees on stage were beyond thrilled¡ªnot just about the cash and the vacation, but the salary hike. This was even better than a bonus; raises meant long-term benefits!


    Those who hadn¡¯t won this year were already steeling themselves to strive for next year¡¯s awards.


    After the employee awards came the management awards.


    Yu Xiangwan had been buzzing with excitement all evening, especially when he stepped onto the stage and Sheng Quan personally placed the custom trophy in his hands.


    His eyes shone brightly, reminding her of the look he¡¯d given her long ago when she arranged for his foster mother to receive treatment at the best hospital in town.


    Yu Xiangwan was overjoyed. His life had been filled with criticism, exploitation, and abandonment, but now, the person he devoted himself to was handing him a trophy that symbolized recognition¡ªjust for him.


    His hands trembled slightly, the calloused fingers struggling to grip it firmly.


    Then, a warm touch steadied him. Yu Xiangwan froze, looking up in surprise at Sheng Quan.


    She wrapped her hands around his, helping him secure his hold on the trophy.


    "Well done."


    She smiled under the spotlight. "My outstanding employee¡ªkeep it up next year."


    Yu Xiangwan¡¯s eyes brightened again, flickering with renewed determination.


    His body seemed to regain its strength as his long fingers tightened around the trophy, his striking peach-blossom eyes fixed unwaveringly on her.


    "Yes. I will always be your... outstanding employee."


    The raffle segment.


    The employees went wild.


    Outside, the servers listened as the host¡¯s enthusiastic voice boomed:


    "Let¡¯s see what you¡¯ve won¡ªseven days of paid leave! Congratulations!"


    "Oof, tough luck! You¡¯ve drawn ¡®jump three times on the spot!¡¯"


    "66666!! Someone just won an eight-thousand-yuan computer! Let¡¯s hear it for them!"


    "Cash!! Ten thousand!!"


    "You¡¯ve drawn ¡®meow three times at everyone!¡¯ Excited?"


    "Hahahaha! You pulled ¡®your boss has to meow at you!¡¯ And guess what? Your boss just drew the same thing! Tonight, you¡¯re destined to be a cat!"


    The room alternated between roaring laughter, envious gasps, and eager anticipation.


    Amid the electric atmosphere, Starlight Entertainment¡¯s anniversary celebration came to a perfect close.


    Many of the hotel staff had snuck over during their breaks to catch the excitement. Rumors had spread¡ªno one knew how¡ªthat the company¡¯s chairwoman was a relative of their hotel¡¯s owner.


    Why else would the general manager be hovering around?


    But from a distance, with Sheng Quan constantly surrounded, no one got a clear look at her. It wasn¡¯t until the group was leaving that the hotel employees noticed their own chairman rushing in.


    "Here to see his relative?"


    The chairman had arrived in a hurry, asking the front desk where Sheng Quan was. When told she¡¯d just left, he dashed outside, leaving the staff puzzled.


    "Wasn¡¯t she supposed to be his junior? Why does he look so frantic?"


    "Who said she was his junior? I¡¯ve never heard the chairman mention any relatives visiting."


    "Well, she¡¯s so young. What else could she be?"


    As they debated, their nearly fifty-year-old chairman jogged up to the group.


    "Chairwoman Sheng! Chairwoman Sheng! What an honor! I just got back from my hometown¡ªheard you were here and came straight over. I¡¯ve been meaning to visit you! Why didn¡¯t you tell me you were stopping by my little hotel? After all, we¡¯re practically family!"


    "I even rent half a floor from you!"

 Chapter 68

    The chubby hotel chairman had just approached Sheng Quan and was about to step closer when he noticed a tall man beside her subtly shift his stance, positioning himself protectively in front of her.


    From this angle, no matter what the chairman intended to do, the man could easily block and subdue him.


    Jiang Lu''s movement was subtle, but as someone who had built a large hotel empire, Director Xin was sharp enough to notice. He inwardly marveled at the bodyguard''s reflexes and immediately halted, maintaining a safe distance.


    "I''m Old Xin¡ªwe met at that cocktail party last time."


    "When someone lowers their posture, they must be seeking something."


    Director Xin embodied these eight words perfectly.


    First, he mentioned that one of his subsidiaries rented space in Huaxing Building. Then, he brought up his past collaborations with Mr. Wang, weaving an elaborate logic: "Mr. Wang and I are close, and Mr. Wang is close with you, so naturally, we should be close too."


    By the time Director Xin reached the point of declaring, "With our relationship, how could we let you pay for dining at our hotel? It¡¯s on the house!" Sheng Quan couldn¡¯t help but laugh and cut him off.


    "Director Xin, just tell me what you need. With the way you¡¯ve approached me, as long as it¡¯s not too difficult, I¡¯ll do my best to help."


    Director Xin¡¯s round face immediately lit up with delight. "Then I¡¯ll get straight to the point. I heard you bought thirteen private helicopters for filming¡ªall J500 series?"


    Sheng Quan wasn¡¯t surprised. Though she hadn¡¯t publicized the purchase, Director Xin, being well-connected in the industry and familiar with Mr. Wang, would naturally have heard about it.


    The helicopters were openly stationed at the filming site, and the hangar was nearly complete. There was no effort to keep it secret, so it made sense he knew.


    She nodded. "Yes, thirteen. Are you looking to buy some as well?"


    Hearing her confirmation, Director Xin¡¯s smile grew even more ingratiating. "At 70 million per unit? My humble business could never afford that."


    He wasn¡¯t being modest.


    As everyone knew, for businesspeople, assets and cash were two different things. Most of their wealth was tied up in investments¡ªnot something they could liquidate at will.


    A billionaire might barely scrape together 100 million in cash.


    Take Director Xin, for example. He might manage to buy one, but the cost was simply too steep for him to justify.


    And then there was Sheng Quan, who had casually spent 900 million on thirteen helicopters just for a film. The most astonishing part? She was only in her early twenties.


    A young tycoon splurging 900 million was an entirely different concept from an older wealthy person doing the same.


    No wonder Director Xin was treading so carefully around her.


    Besides, he did have a favor to ask.


    "A wedding?"


    Sheng Quan wasn¡¯t surprised at all. In fact, she murmured to 006, [Here it comes.]


    This was exactly why she had been so thrilled when she won thirteen helicopters in the lottery, even knowing they weren¡¯t the most practical assets.


    In China, where low-altitude airspace wasn¡¯t fully open, these luxury private helicopters required flight path approvals for every use, making them seem somewhat impractical.


    But that very limitation also gave them a unique advantage:


    At present, Sheng Quan was the only person in China who owned ten of these high-end private helicopters.


    Of course, others in the country owned similar models, but no one had purchased them in bulk like her.


    Yet there were always occasions when wealthy individuals needed them¡ªand that¡¯s where connections came into play.


    Like now, with Director Xin.


    If Sheng Quan had spent the 900 million herself, the networking benefits wouldn¡¯t have justified the cost.


    But these helicopters were lottery winnings!


    Essentially, she got all these status symbols for free, with the added bonus of building connections. It was a win-win.


    Director Xin was practically groveling. "That¡¯s right. She¡¯s our only daughter, and we want her wedding to be extraordinary. So we were hoping to trouble you for this favor."


    It wasn¡¯t uncommon these days for grooms to arrive by helicopter, but Director Xin had done his research. Most rental options in China were basic models¡ªcheaper ones costing a few hundred thousand, the pricier ones a few million at most.


    For his own wedding, he might have settled for that. But for his daughter? Only the best would do.


    "Don¡¯t worry, we¡¯ll pay the rental fee. Of course, I know money means nothing to you, but we still want to show our sincerity. And the meal is definitely on us."


    Director Xin was still nervous. Private helicopters were usually personal assets, rarely lent out.


    When news broke of Sheng Quan commuting in her newly purchased helicopter, he hadn¡¯t even considered asking her.


    But then she bought thirteen more for her film crew.


    Though not as flashy as her personal model, he figured if she was willing to use them for filming, she might be open to lending them.


    While he fretted, Sheng Quan agreed without hesitation.


    "No need for rental fees. Your daughter¡¯s wedding is a joyous occasion¡ªconsider the helicopters my wedding gift."


    She said yes!


    Director Xin was overjoyed. He never expected Sheng Quan to be so generous. These were 900 million yuan worth of helicopters, and she treated the matter so casually.


    Though her refusal of payment meant he owed her a favor, it was one he was happy to owe. After all, in all of China, only Sheng Quan had this many luxury helicopters at her disposal.


    Once the rental details were settled, Sheng Quan took her leave.


    Watching her entourage escort her away, Director Xin couldn¡¯t help but sigh in admiration. No wonder she had achieved so much at such a young age¡ªshe truly knew how to handle things with grace.


    Humming cheerfully, he returned to the hotel, where one of the receptionists¡ªa distant niece from his hometown¡ªasked curiously,


    "Uncle, who was that?"


    Director Xin: "Shouldn¡¯t you young people recognize her? Sheng Quan, the chairwoman of Starlight Entertainment."


    The name "Starlight Entertainment" might not ring a bell, but "Sheng Quan" was instantly familiar to anyone who spent time online.


    "That¡¯s Sheng Quan?! Oh my god, I¡¯ve seen videos of her casually dropping 100 million!" The niece sighed in regret. "I caught a glimpse when they came out, but she was surrounded by so many people I couldn¡¯t even see her face. What a shame."


    "You wanted to see her face? Every single person around her is a bodyguard." Director Xin couldn¡¯t help but feel a twinge of envy. "Haven¡¯t you noticed how their anniversary events strictly ban outsiders? What¡¯s there to hide at an anniversary celebration? It¡¯s all for Chairwoman Sheng¡¯s safety."


    After all, this was someone who had just spent 900 million on private helicopters.


    Director Xin hadn¡¯t arranged for personal bodyguards, only keeping two assistants and a driver¡ªafter all, China¡¯s overall environment was quite safe, and he usually felt secure during his travels.


    But then he thought about the tall, imposing bodyguards he¡¯d just seen accompanying Sheng Quan¡ªeach with an exceptional physique, a coldly dignified presence, and an intimidating aura even when silent...


    Though Director Xin was already in his fifties, he had to admit: the sight was undeniably impressive.


    Come to think of it, he¡¯d heard she owned a security company. While most of its services were reserved for artists under Starlight Entertainment, it was rumored they also took external assignments.


    Putting aside the fact that he owed Sheng Quan a favor, she was simply someone worth befriending.


    Having made up his mind, Director Xin immediately instructed his assistant:


    "Find the contact details for the security company Sheng Quan runs. Have them recommend one¡ªno, two bodyguards for me."


    "And about that celebrity endorsement we discussed yesterday? Only hire artists from Starlight Entertainment. Also, reserve a luxury suite in all our hotels exclusively for Sheng Quan."


    She likely wouldn¡¯t stay at his hotels, but what if she did?


    As the saying went: she might not use it, but he couldn¡¯t afford not to prepare.


    Director Xin was just the beginning. As news spread that Sheng Quan had purchased thirteen private helicopters for film production, she noticed a growing number of people gravitating toward her.


    The Huaxing Building and Starlight Estate were at least real estate investments, and funding student research projects could be written off as buying goodwill.


    But spending 900 million to buy over a dozen luxury helicopters when China¡¯s low-altitude airspace wasn¡¯t even fully open? That was pure, unadulterated extravagance.


    Yet it wasn¡¯t just these newcomers who saw Sheng Quan as wealthy. The production team of Interstellar War had now moved to military bases for filming.


    At the six-month mark of shooting, the budget had been hemorrhaging money¡ªpainful, yet unstoppable.


    Fortunately, progress was smooth, and they arrived at the military zone as scheduled.


    Flying thirteen helicopters near the base naturally required special permission. When the application reached the officers, the contents left them stunned.


    "Thirteen J500-series helicopters? All privately owned?"


    "Correct. Every single one."


    The officer couldn¡¯t help doing the math¡ªthirteen units, each costing over 70 million...


    "Damn. That¡¯s some serious money."


    Another officer chimed in, "You¡¯re just realizing she¡¯s loaded? Look at how much she¡¯s donated to our forces. The logistics team grins like fools every time her name comes up."


    In terms of goodwill, Sheng Quan¡¯s reputation among the military was sky-high.


    She had wealth, but she was also generous toward them¡ªespecially with her company¡¯s initiative to hire veterans, which won over the officers¡¯ hearts.


    Even the soldiers involved in filming found the experience novel and enjoyable.


    Under regulations, troops could participate in shoots as long as it didn¡¯t interfere with training, confidentiality, or operations.


    Making a movie? Everyone was curious. Though most scenes followed standard drill procedures, the finer details were handled by the actors.


    Still, they got a glimpse of the props:


    Life-sized robotic transport dogs, sleek and futuristic-looking cannons, VR-like 3D holographic maps¡ªeven if some were just for show, they looked undeniably cool.


    Xu He, one of the soldiers involved, found the ten-day shoot fascinating. His squad leader mentioned they¡¯d get to watch the film once it released, and he couldn¡¯t wait.


    His favorite part? Watching those black helicopters crisscross the sky¡ªmassive, sleek, and radiating sheer dominance.


    While military films often featured choppers roaring into action, his unit had no helicopters of its own. Only a few veterans had seen them deployed.


    "Helicopters usually show up for disaster relief. Our brigade doesn¡¯t have an aviation unit, so of course we don¡¯t have any," one veteran explained.


    After chatting about the day¡¯s shoot and speculating whether the movie would be good, life returned to routine.


    Xu He heard the crew had moved to another location afterward, and the novelty of "that movie shot here" gradually faded in the barracks.


    Then, ?????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????about two months later, in the predawn gloom, emergency alarms blared. Xu He bolted awake, dressed, and scrambled out.


    Floods in Lu?cheng. Landslides. Collapsed roads. Civilians trapped. Their unit was being deployed for disaster relief.


    This was Xu He¡¯s first emergency rescue mission since enlisting. Nervous but swift, he boarded the rumbling transport.


    Maybe because the film¡¯s helicopters had left such an impression, his first thought was: If we had that many choppers now, we could save people faster.


    He quietly asked the veteran, "Will there be helicopters for this operation?"


    "Definitely, but usually no more than five per division. Might take time to mobilize more. Hopefully, they can scramble extra¡ªthe more, the better."


    The troops arrived in Lu?cheng at top speed. As they disembarked, a soldier nearby suddenly perked up. "Hear that? Choppers?"


    The familiar thrum of rotors grew louder. Xu He looked up¡ªand gaped.


    "Aren¡¯t those Interstellar War¡¯s helicopters?!"


    Others craned their necks. "Looks like them. Count them... yep, all thirteen."


    Flying in tight formation at low altitude, the massive black choppers seemed to fill the sky.


    Thirteen in total, blades churning, they arrowed straight toward the disaster zone.

 Chapter 69

    The timeline rewinds to earlier.


    Sheng Quan was awakened from her sleep by a phone call.


    Although she enjoyed visiting film sets, she usually didn¡¯t follow the crew if they traveled too far. After Yu Xiangwan explained the situation over the phone, Sheng Quan, who had been slightly groggy, instantly snapped awake.


    Yu Xiangwan had always been precise about Sheng Quan¡¯s rest schedule, and this was the first time he had called her during her sleep¡ªbecause he knew exactly what her response would be.


    Sure enough, after confirming that the entire crew was safe, the reply from the other end of the line came almost immediately:


    "Submit an emergency application to the authorities right away. Have our helicopters assist in disaster relief. Also, doesn¡¯t the crew have a lot of drones? Apply to deploy those too. I¡¯ll transfer the funds¡ªuse the crew¡¯s vehicles to deliver supplies after purchasing them."


    Interstellar War was undeniably well-equipped in every aspect. Helicopters and drones were just the basics. The crew had large transport vehicles approved and purchased specifically for moving bulky filming equipment and props, which sometimes even made appearances in the scenes.


    Yu Xiangwan acknowledged the instructions and swiftly arranged everything.


    Back in Shanghai, Sheng Quan couldn¡¯t fall back asleep. She got up and checked the news about the flood in Lu?cheng. Sure enough, updates were flooding Weibo¡¯s real-time feed almost every second.


    The current filming location for Interstellar War wasn¡¯t in Lu?cheng, but it wasn¡¯t too far either. Otherwise, given the helicopters¡¯ limited range, it would¡¯ve been difficult to fly there.


    But precisely because she knew about the helicopters¡¯ limited endurance, Sheng Quan decisively ordered them to join the rescue efforts. In emergencies like this, only nearby resources could be mobilized quickly.


    Yet even then, not much could be deployed.


    In this world, China was militarily powerful, with advanced combat helicopters, but its rescue and transport capabilities weren¡¯t as robust as in Sheng Quan¡¯s previous life.


    This might have been due to historical deviations in this world¡¯s China compared to the one she remembered. For instance, in her past life, she had lived through a devastating earthquake while still in school¡ªshe had been rescued by soldiers who dug her out with their bare hands.


    At the time, Sheng Quan had already lost her grandparents, and her parents, each with new families, had long acted as if she didn¡¯t exist. Trapped under the rubble, she hadn¡¯t even known who to call for help.


    Then, a group of soldiers pulled her out.


    She still remembered the hands that lifted her¡ªbloodied from relentless digging.


    Back then, Sheng Quan had only been seventeen, dazed and overwhelmed. She hadn¡¯t even gotten the chance to say thank you before they rushed off to rescue others.


    Her deep admiration for the military stemmed largely from that experience.


    In this world, an earthquake had indeed occurred around the same time and place, but the magnitude had been lower, causing minimal damage. It had barely made the news.


    When Sheng Quan stumbled upon this information, she had felt relieved. Though it was a different world, that place had still been her hometown. At least here, it had been spared immense suffering.


    Having been trapped herself, even in her past life as an ordinary worker, Sheng Quan had always donated money and supplies whenever disasters struck.


    She knew that feeling all too well¡ªhelplessness, fear, the uncertainty of where hope lay. If roads were cut off, hunger and medical shortages would follow.


    Even with today¡¯s technological advancements, Sheng Quan, well-versed in disaster relief donations, understood that these problems would persist if transportation routes were severed.


    Floods could also destroy communication cables, leaving victims unable to even call for help.


    She vaguely recalled a passage in the novel where a character donated during a major flood. The book hadn¡¯t gone into detail, but it seemed like a prolonged disaster.


    Could it be the Lu?cheng flood?


    Unfortunately, the novel hadn¡¯t specified exact dates, making it impossible to confirm with certainty.


    After searching again and confirming that the flood¡¯s scope was still expanding, Sheng Quan quickly changed clothes and opened her door. Hearing the commotion, Jiang Lu¡¯s room downstairs lit up.


    He glanced at his messages, dressed neatly, and headed upstairs¡ªjust in time to hear Sheng Quan on the phone:


    "Notify the trainees. There¡¯s a flood in Lu?cheng. I want to purchase a batch of relief supplies and send them over. Anyone willing to volunteer can come along¡ªtriple their daily pay."


    Jiang Lu stood at the door and knocked on the already open frame. Sheng Quan nodded, signaling for him to enter, as she continued instructing: "I¡¯ll send you a list. Get everything bought as quickly as possible. Good work¡ªthere¡¯ll be bonuses when you return."


    After making several more calls to finalize arrangements, Sheng Quan finally put her phone down. Jiang Lu then asked, "Are you going too?"


    "Yes," she replied. "I¡¯m going."


    In her past life, when natural disasters struck, Sheng Quan had considered volunteering. Perhaps this is just human nature¡ªbecause she had been helped before, she wanted to help others in return.


    But as an overworked employee exploited by her company, she barely had enough time to sleep, let alone take days off to volunteer.


    "Since ?????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????I don¡¯t have much to do right now, helping out sounds like a good idea."


    Even though she had no medical training and couldn¡¯t swim, she had money. She could buy whatever was needed¡ªtransport vehicles, rescue supplies¡ªas long as merchants had them in stock, she could purchase everything.


    Jiang Lu didn¡¯t raise any objections to Sheng Quan¡¯s decision. The tall, taciturn man simply nodded and said in a deep voice, "I¡¯ll prepare the luggage."


    For Sheng Quan at this moment, gathering rescue supplies in the shortest time possible wasn¡¯t difficult. Alone, she might not have been able to accomplish much, but she had plenty of subordinates now.


    Sheng Quan had always disliked asking her employees for personal favors outside work hours, but this time, she made an exception. She didn¡¯t take it for granted just because it was for disaster relief¡ªafter all, her desire to help was her own business, and she couldn¡¯t morally pressure her staff.


    Having been on the receiving end of such pressure in her past life, Director Sheng knew exactly how unpleasant it felt. So she sincerely apologized to her employees and promised to compensate them with overtime pay and bonuses.


    The employees who had been abruptly awakened were indeed annoyed¡ªno one would be happy being suddenly dragged out of bed to work.


    But when they heard it was for disaster relief, half of their frustration immediately dissipated.


    And when the chairman personally apologized and promised compensation, the lingering resentment vanished entirely, replaced by an almost electric surge of motivation:


    "Got it, I¡¯ll handle it right away. Don¡¯t worry, I¡¯ll get it done as quickly as possible."


    The same scenario played out with the owner of a kayak shop who was woken up by a call. His first reaction was: "Are you insane? It¡¯s not even dawn yet, and the shop¡¯s closed. Who cares what you want to buy?!"


    But when the caller mentioned the specific items, quantities, and the staggering amount of money involved, the shop owner¡¯s drowsiness and anger evaporated instantly:


    "How many?! Seriously?! Yes, yes, we have stock! I¡¯m getting up right now!"


    After arriving at the location and handing over the goods, he finally thought to ask, "Why are you buying so many kayaks this early in the morning? These things aren¡¯t cheap, you know."


    When he learned they were for disaster relief in Lu?cheng, the shop owner¡ªwho had been reveling in his sudden windfall¡ªfell silent. After checking online to see the situation in Lu?cheng, he added, "Then... I¡¯ll throw in an extra case. Consider it my contribution."


    Before dawn had fully broken, many sleeping merchants were roused by phone calls, their emotions cycling through "anger¡ªshock¡ªskepticism¡ªeuphoria¡ªquestioning¡ªadmiration."


    Not everyone was willing to donate money, supplies, or volunteer for disaster relief, but that didn¡¯t stop most people from respecting those who did.


    Long before sunrise, countless individuals were already bustling about for this cause.


    ¡ªAt the Starlight Security Training Base, three advisors strode out the gates first, followed by a large group of trainees. Each carried a backpack stocked with small tools and basic medical supplies¡ªthis was originally part of their bodyguard training, but now it was being put to unexpected use.


    They moved swiftly:


    "Hurry, hurry! Teams split up and head to the rental car agencies, then proceed to the assigned supply pickup points."


    "Advisor, shouldn¡¯t we assign drivers? I can handle transport trucks."


    "Director Sheng has hired professional drivers. Our job is to load the supplies, then rest on the road. We¡¯ll have plenty to do once we arrive. You haven¡¯t forgotten what you learned in the military, have you?"


    The trainee immediately snapped to attention and saluted. "Reporting, Advisor! I remember!"


    "Good, that¡¯s obvious. Now get in the truck¡ªmove to the back. I¡¯m with your group."


    ¡ªIn the Starlight Conference Room, several accountants tapped away at their calculators, quickly tallying the numbers:


    "Director Sheng, we¡¯ve calculated the budget for all supplies. It¡¯s close to our initial estimate¡ªyou¡¯ll need to allocate approximately twelve million more."


    Sheng Quan reviewed the figures and signed off. "Proceed as planned."


    ¡ªOutside a tent factory, crates were being carried to the entrance. Secretary Zhang stood nearby, counting the inventory. Only after everything was moved did she snap her notebook shut.


    "That¡¯s everything. Once the trucks arrive, we¡¯ll need your help loading them."


    "No trouble at all!" The factory staff grinned from ear to ear. With payment this generous, they¡¯d have been willing to move twice the amount.


    "Your boss must be a wealthy tycoon, buying so many tents for disaster relief. And insisting on high-quality ones too¡ªcheaper ones would¡¯ve saved a lot."


    Secretary Zhang checked the time, relieved to see it was still early, then finally had a moment to reply:


    "Our boss said most of these tents are actually for the disaster relief soldiers to sleep in. She wants them to rest as comfortably as possible, so shoddy tents won¡¯t do."


    "And also, she¡¯s not just rich."


    "She¡¯s very, very, very rich¡ª"


    By the time the sky fully brightened, the busy rescue workers in Lu?cheng looked up at the deafening roar above.


    "Helicopters!!! Helicopters!!!"


    "So many of them¡ªthere must be over a dozen?!"


    The leader of Squad 3, who had just returned from the flood relief frontlines, was stunned. "Where did Lu?cheng get so many helicopters?"


    He knew the situation in Lu?cheng all too well¡ªnot just here, but the surrounding areas barely had any helicopter resources either. Unless they were urgently transferred from other cities, there was no way this many could appear.


    But even if they were pulled from the nearest city with helicopters, they couldn¡¯t have arrived this fast.


    "It¡¯s a film crew shooting nearby. These helicopters are for their production. When they heard about the floods in Lu?cheng, they came straight here," Squad 2¡¯s leader explained.


    Squad 3¡¯s leader let out a relieved sigh, a tired smile breaking across his face.


    "This is perfect. With these helicopters, the rescue operations will go much smoother."


    He glanced upward, then suddenly remembered something crucial. "It¡¯s hard for helicopters to land in these conditions¡ªhow experienced are their pilots?"


    If the pilots weren¡¯t skilled enough, it could still be a problem.


    Squad 2¡¯s leader laughed and clapped him on the shoulder.


    "Guess what? The crew hired all professional veteran pilots¡ªhighly paid experts. Their skills are top-notch, I hear. They can even hover steadily. Of course, we can¡¯t just rely on them. The higher-ups have already dispatched over twenty pilots to take over soon."


    "They¡¯ve already located two groups of trapped civilians. Any later, and they might¡¯ve been submerged. Now, with the helicopters, it¡¯s manageable. Look, they¡¯re finalizing the rescue plan inside."


    As he listened, Squad 3¡¯s leader relaxed even further.


    What incredible luck¡ªrunning into a film crew nearby with helicopters, and they were willing to lend them for disaster relief.


    "That crew is really something."


    He knew full well that in chaotic disaster zones like this, these helicopters would inevitably suffer some wear and tear¡ªespecially since he recognized them as J500 series models.


    The J500 series was dual-purpose, suitable for both civilian and military use, making them ideal for rescue work. But they were also exorbitantly expensive.


    For the crew to risk damaging these helicopters and voluntarily deploy them for rescue efforts was truly remarkable.


    "And that¡¯s not all. The crew¡¯s manager said they¡¯re also bringing supplies¡ªsome by helicopter, and a much larger batch is on the way."


    Squad 3¡¯s leader rarely watched movies, but now, moved and overjoyed, he could only express his emotions with one heartfelt declaration:


    "What¡¯s the name of their film? When it¡¯s released, I¡¯m buying tickets¡ªand calling my family to watch it too."


    "I think it¡¯s called... Star Wars."


    As the thirteen helicopters hovered over Lu?cheng, searching for survivors, a convoy of relief supplies was already on its way from Shanghai.


    Thirty identical transport trucks rolled down the highway, their uniform size and color forming an imposing line that dwarfed other vehicles.


    "Damn, what a sight."


    Drivers gaped from a distance, while passengers snapped photos from their cars.


    "Funny how these trucks look plain alone, but together? Badass."


    "Let me count... twenty-eight, twenty-nine, thirty... Holy crap, thirty massive trucks moving at once. Wait, aren¡¯t heavy vehicles banned at this hour?"


    With so many transports on the road, photos of them flooded Shanghai¡¯s group chats by morning.


    Some praised the spectacle, others questioned the traffic violation, and a few wondered why the police hadn¡¯t stopped them.


    One person even called the traffic violation hotline to report them¡ªonly to return to the group chat with an update.


    [Turns out those trucks are headed to Lu?cheng for disaster relief. Every single one is loaded with emergency supplies!]


    [It¡¯s not an official operation, but in cases like this, they can apply for special passage. That¡¯s why the cops didn¡¯t stop them.]


    The group¡¯s interest had waned, leaving only those with past traffic fines to argue bitterly¡ªbasically, "I suffered, so I¡¯ll make sure others do too."


    But now, with this revelation, the same people who¡¯d been ranting about "Why aren¡¯t they being stopped?!" and "Report them!" fell silent.


    Some, embarrassed, went quiet. Others, who hadn¡¯t joined the criticism, seized the moment:


    [So that¡¯s what¡¯s happening.]


    [Thirty trucks full of relief supplies¡ªthis scale isn¡¯t even government-organized? Is it a private donation effort?]


    ¡¾I searched around, and right now most channels are still in the donation phase. The fastest delivery of supplies won¡¯t arrive until noon, and none of the major charity organizations have even set out yet.¡¿


    ¡¾Holy crap! Holy crap! I just heard from a friend¡ªthose thirty trucks of supplies were donated by an individual! One person!!!!¡¿


    As soon as this was posted, many lurking netizens immediately surfaced.


    ¡¾An individual?? Thirty trucks of supplies? Who the hell is this legendary person??¡¿


    ¡¾My dad sells emergency water equipment, and he said someone called him before dawn today and bought a huge batch. When he asked why they needed so much, they said it was for the disaster zone¡ªit must be them!!¡¿


    ¡¾No way! My coworker mentioned earlier that someone went to her dad¡¯s factory at the crack of dawn and bought tons of life jackets. The boss was grinning ear to ear.¡¿


    ¡¾Oh my god, the earliest news about the disaster broke around midnight. It¡¯s barely morning, and they¡¯ve already gathered this much? That¡¯s insane.¡¿


    ¡¾Me, me! My classmate¡¯s family¡¯s entire stock of disinfectant was bought out around 4 AM. His parents were pissed about being woken up, but when they saw how much was purchased, they even threw in a free box of iodine.¡¿


    As more and more comments like ¡°our stock was cleared out,¡± ¡°my friend¡¯s relative too,¡± and ¡°same thing happened at my workplace¡± poured in, the discussion grew more and more awestruck. Even netizens who usually brushed off wealthy donors as just doing what was expected were moved.


    Natural disasters happen, and it¡¯s common to see the rich or celebrities donating supplies.


    But this was the first time anyone had seen someone react so swiftly¡ªthrowing money at the problem before dawn, assembling thirty trucks of relief supplies by sunrise, and rushing them straight to the disaster zone without a second¡¯s delay.


    Even the most cynical netizens had to admit: this person genuinely wanted to help.


    ¡¾And they didn¡¯t even put up banners. No one knows who donated all this.¡¿


    ¡¾It¡¯s obvious they¡¯ve been scrambling to gather supplies since the disaster hit. Who has time to promote their name?¡¿


    ¡¾This is what real action looks like.¡¿


    ¡¾I have this quirk¡ªthe less someone boasts about doing good, the more I want to know who they are.¡¿


    ¡¾Same.¡¿


    ¡¾Update: There¡¯s a film crew shooting near Lu?cheng, and they have over a dozen helicopters. After hearing about the disaster, they immediately deployed them for rescue.¡¿


    ¡¾???¡¿


    ¡¾First off, that¡¯s amazing. Second... a film crew with over a dozen helicopters??? What kind of movie are they even making??¡¿


    ¡°We¡¯re shooting a sci-fi film.¡±


    Sheng Quan didn¡¯t travel by truck, so she arrived quickly.


    With her came a fleet of newly purchased equipment.


    They stood on high ground, overlooking the floodwaters in the distance. Beside Sheng Quan was the official who had come to receive her. From their vantage point, they watched as hundreds of people operated drones across the large square ahead¡ªmany of them crew members mixed in.


    With a collective hum, the drones took to the skies.


    Soon, the entire sky was filled with them.


    Compared to the thirteen helicopters, the sight of over five hundred drones hovering was far more staggering.


    At the very least, the official beside Sheng Quan was wide-eyed with shock.


    She explained, ¡°It¡¯s a sci-fi film. Of course we need drones.¡±


    Above them, the drones darted swiftly toward the horizon.


    From a distance,


    they seemed to blanket the sky¡ªan overwhelming drone army.


    A sea of machines¡ª


    Sheng Quan¡¯s justification grew less convincing as the spectacle expanded.


    ¡°So... our drone count is...¡±


    She cleared her throat.


    ¡°A little excessive.¡±

 Chapter 70

    To be honest, Sheng Quan was also seeing such a scene for the first time.


    She had heard before about people using drones to "form patterns" or "set off fireworks," which would look quite spectacular at night. But those were programmed in advance¡ªnothing like this, where each person controlled their own drone.


    Each drone represented a pair of eyes, flying overhead like helicopters searching for signs of life.


    Compared to helicopters, the sound of drones was relatively quiet. But with so many gathered together, it was a different story. The busy people below heard the noise and looked up to witness the awe-inspiring sight of the massive drone fleet passing by.


    They had coordinated their routes beforehand. Upon reaching their destination, they immediately split into several smaller teams, meticulously searching in different directions.


    On a tree nearly toppled by the floodwaters, a middle-aged woman clung desperately to the trunk. Most of her body was submerged, saved only by the buoyancy of the dense, intertwined branches.


    But while these branches had kept her alive, they also formed a perfect "umbrella" above her. When the massive helicopter flew overhead, no matter how hard the exhausted woman screamed for help, she remained hidden from the pilot¡¯s view.


    "Someone¡¯s here!!! I¡¯m here!!!"


    She clung to the branches, watching helplessly as the roaring helicopter passed right over her. The hope on her face slowly turned to despair.


    ¡ªBuzz.


    ¡ªBuzz.


    Half-sprawled on the branches, the woman heard the strange noise so close by and strained to look up.


    ¡ªBuzz.


    A pitch-black drone, its propellers spinning, descended slowly from above and hovered right in front of her.


    Two seconds later, two identical drones maneuvered around the branches behind it, one on each side, buzzing as they hovered and "looked" at her.


    Her chapped lips parted slightly, torn between hope and uncertainty, as she asked,


    "Are... are you here to save me?"


    The lead drone bobbed up and down¡ªlike a nod.


    At that moment, to this trapped survivor, they might as well have been gods descending from the heavens.


    In the time that followed, the other two drones slowly ascended and flew away to continue searching elsewhere. But the woman wasn¡¯t afraid, because the first drone stayed with her the entire time.


    Until the rescue team arrived in a lifeboat.


    "Survivor located."


    Only after watching the woman being pulled onto the lifeboat did the drone that had stayed with her finally rise into the air and fly onward.


    There were many more rescues like this after the drone army joined the effort.


    Their smaller size allowed them to weave nimbly through the wreckage, finding survivors who would otherwise have been nearly impossible to locate.


    Those hidden behind fallen trees.


    Those trapped inside vehicles.


    Those stuck in narrow corners.


    Even with communications down, these drones excelled at relaying information. Some even carried food and water, delivering supplies to survivors who weren¡¯t in immediate danger but still needed aid.


    On the high-elevation square that had been designated as their base, people sat or stood, intently controlling their drones from afar and reporting their findings.


    "Approximately seventeen survivors located¡ªsixteen children and one adult."


    "One survivor found¡ªadult male, urgent rescue needed."


    "Two survivors found¡ªone male, one female. Male has a head injury and is unconscious."


    Of course, not all five hundred drones emerged unscathed from navigating these disaster zones.


    Some were buried under collapsed buildings. Others were struck by debris swept along by the floodwaters. Some got tangled in branches or ensnared in power lines.


    Flying was already difficult in such harsh conditions, let alone deliberately steering into dangerous areas. So it was no surprise that reports of "crashes" kept coming in.


    These drones weren¡¯t cheap¡ªin fact, they were among the more expensive models on the market. The person keeping track of the losses winced with every report, but Sheng Quan remained completely unfazed.


    In fact, not only was she unfazed, she even remotely ordered another batch of drones as replacements.


    But the main issue wasn¡¯t the number of drones or the crashes¡ªit was that only a handful of skilled operators could handle flying in such extreme conditions.


    And in a flood disaster, everywhere was an extreme environment.


    What they needed now weren¡¯t just people who could fly drones¡ªthey needed experts who could maneuver them through all kinds of perilous situations.


    The official in charge of coordinating the effort was growing anxious. The impact of these five hundred drones had been enormous¡ªsince they joined the rescue operations, efficiency had at least doubled.


    But now progress had stalled, and it wasn¡¯t due to equipment shortages¡ªit was a lack of skilled drone operators. The forty-something official¡¯s first instinct was:


    "Maybe I should make some calls, see if we can scrape together another batch of operators from drone retailers."


    "Store by store, we might be able to pull it off."


    It was a crude solution, but it seemed like the fastest way to gather more people right now.


    Sheng Quan was about to nod when she suddenly paused.


    "Wait¡ªlet me check something first."


    The official didn¡¯t know what the young Chairwoman Sheng was looking for, but after she pulled out her phone and scrolled for a while, the frown on her face gradually eased.


    In ?????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????fact, Sheng Quan didn¡¯t just relax¡ªwhen she looked up, even her tone was lighter:


    "Don¡¯t worry. I have a way to bring in skilled drone operators¡ªand there¡¯ll be plenty of them."


    One of the defining traits of the internet age is that no matter the hobby or interest, as long as enough people are into it, they¡¯ll naturally find ways to gather.


    If someone picks up a new interest and wants to find a community¡ªor get guidance from experienced veterans¡ªall they need to do is search on platforms like forums, Weibo, QQ groups, or messaging apps. In no time, they¡¯ll find all kinds of shared knowledge and advice.


    And if they¡¯re not content with just reading guides but want to interact directly with fellow enthusiasts, they can either post questions when stuck or join dedicated groups.


    It¡¯s safe to say that for many young people today, the time spent chatting in online groups sometimes even surpasses real-life socializing.


    Just like Sheng Quan¡ªboth in her past life and this one¡ªhad joined countless groups for novels, comics, calligraphy, and study tips.


    Casual hobby groups were one thing, like the novel discussion groups she was in, where members shared recommendations, gushed over their favorite pairings, or just chatted about random topics.


    But when a hobby involved technical skills, the group dynamics shifted. You¡¯d have the "gods" (top experts), the "minor gods" (skilled but not elite), the "experienced seniors," and the "newbies who could only cheer from the sidelines."


    And drone enthusiasts? They were exactly like that.


    Perhaps Gu Zhao''s perspective held some truth¡ªhumans naturally admire strength, especially when that strength can offer them assistance.


    In certain drone enthusiast groups, the status of a "master" could be described as commanding universal respect. Every time they appeared, people would follow behind, spamming "666" and showering them with praise.


    Typically, such "masters" would also be group admins. Their passion for drones far exceeded that of most members, and they often organized offline events.


    Wang Xujie was one such "master." Despite his ordinary-sounding name and relatively young age, his privileged background allowed him early exposure to drones, earning him high seniority among "aviation enthusiasts."


    By high school, he had already formed a drone hobbyist group. In college, he actively campaigned and became the president of the university''s drone club¡ªdevoting most of his time to this passion.


    As an enthusiastic and financially unburdened drone lover, Wang Xujie had organized dozens of offline events. His online alias, [Soaring Eagle] (yes, it was a bit cringeworthy), was legendary in drone circles.


    As a college student still clinging to his teenage idealism, Wang Xujie was thoroughly satisfied with his life. Whether others had vanity or not, he certainly did¡ªand in abundance. Every time he surveyed the groups he''d built, he felt a sense of pride, as if thinking, "This is the empire I¡¯ve built."


    Though his family dismissed his hobby as frivolous, complaining that all he did was play with drones, he had thick skin. As long as his allowance kept coming, he tuned them out.


    When the nagging got unbearable, he¡¯d retort, "I don¡¯t street race, I don¡¯t party every night, I don¡¯t waste money on extravagance¡ªI just love drones. Why keep criticizing me?"


    Of course, parents rarely listened to such reasoning¡ªat least, Wang Xujie¡¯s didn¡¯t. To them, their son¡¯s obsession with these "toys" only confirmed one thing: "This kid¡¯s hopeless."


    Fortunately, blood ran thicker than disdain. Despite their complaints, his allowance remained generous, allowing him to focus wholeheartedly on expanding his "drone empire."


    He frequently recruited new talent online, even buying a second phone¡ªone for daily life, the other dedicated to his "drone empire." For events, he exclusively used the latter.


    That day started like any other¡ªuntil he received a call.


    "Lu?cheng disaster relief? Drones?"


    After listening carefully, Wang Xujie was momentarily stunned.


    In all his years of flying drones, it had never occurred to him that they could be used for rescue missions.


    After a brief moment of shock, the young man in his early twenties agreed without hesitation:


    "No problem. I¡¯ll organize skilled members from my group right away. Hold on, let¡¯s add each other on Feixin¡ªyou can brief me on the flight conditions and current challenges."


    For some reason, his entire body trembled with excitement.


    Maybe it was the first time he felt truly needed. Or maybe it was the first time he had a chance to save lives.


    Brimming with adrenaline, he confirmed the details with the caller. Once everything was settled, he solemnly opened his laptop and drafted the following announcement:


    "@everyone, Lu?cheng is hit by severe floods, with masses trapped. Rescue teams have deployed drones for search and rescue, but flight conditions are hazardous due to the disaster. Skilled drone pilots are urgently needed for support.


    Compensation, travel, and meal allowances are detailed below. Expenses fully covered. Those interested, contact me for registration¡ªI¡¯ll screen applicants."


    After posting, he immediately pinned it as an announcement.


    This was a large, well-managed drone group with high activity at all hours. The moment the message went up, idle chatter ceased as members flooded the chat in astonishment.


    "Holy crap!! Five hundred drones for rescue? That¡¯s insane!!"


    "I never thought drone skills could save lives. Count me in!"


    "If it¡¯s for disaster relief, I¡¯ll volunteer¡ªjust cover my travel."


    "Classic Soaring Eagle. I¡¯m in too. Got days off¡ªtreating it like an offline event."


    "Why didn¡¯t we think of this before? Drones don¡¯t need networks¡ªperfect for large-scale rescues!"


    "We did think of it¡ªbut conditions like this are high-risk for crashes. Most hobbyists only own one or two drones. Losing one means losing 10-20K."


    "Wait, all five hundred drones are M-series? Those are expensive! What if they crash? Do we have to pay?"


    Admin Soaring Eagle: "They¡¯re hiring experts to minimize crashes. No need to compensate for losses¡ªbut let¡¯s avoid them. They specifically want top-tier pilots. If we crash, even if they don¡¯t complain, it¡¯s embarrassing for us, right?"


    Admin Soaring Eagle: "I¡¯ve confirmed¡ªother groups are joining too. Even Xinxin and Gu Yuan are bringing their people."


    "Whoa! Xinxin¡¯s going?!"


    "Gu Yuan too? He hasn¡¯t attended offline events in ages!"


    Initially, the scale hadn¡¯t fully registered. But upon realizing this was a cross-group effort, the magnitude hit them:


    "This is historic."


    "Just saw footage¡ªaside from performances, have you ever seen this many drones mobilized?"


    "A drone battalion. First time in my career."


    "Damn, this is hype! I¡¯m signing up!"


    "I¡¯m still a rookie, but can I tag along? I¡¯ll help however I can¡ªI¡¯ll cover my own expenses."


    "Sign me up. If approved, I¡¯ll take leave immediately."


    The Lu?cheng floods were already trending nationwide. Most members had only commented in support when scrolling through headlines.


    But this recruitment notice changed everything. Who knew their hobby could contribute to disaster relief?


    "When one suffers, all help"¡ªthis saying endured in China because most people lived by it.


    As sign-ups surged, Wang Xujie noted many volunteers refusing payment, forcing him to amend the announcement:


    "Drone costs and operator wages are fully covered by Starlight Entertainment. They¡¯ve explicitly stated compensation will be provided¡ªthis is not a volunteer call. Please stop requesting unpaid participation."


    Ironically, this update only spurred more curiosity. Members couldn¡¯t resist digging into who Starlight Entertainment was.


    Most people don¡¯t bother remembering the names of entertainment companies. To be precise, unless you¡¯re a fan or part of the industry, no one really cares about these companies.


    But when people searched, they realized: "Oh, this is the company founded by Sheng Quan!"


    "No wonder, it¡¯s Sheng Quan. That makes sense¡ªshe¡¯s incredibly wealthy, and she¡¯s always been a decent person. Didn¡¯t she donate 100 million before?"


    "Remember that time she invested in college students? I said back then she was a good person, and now it¡¯s proven."


    "Why isn¡¯t there any news online about her buying 500 drones for disaster relief? The smallest things trend on social media, but something this huge doesn¡¯t even get an interview?"


    "Holy crap, guys!! I just found out why Sheng Quan was in Lu?cheng!! Starlight Entertainment was filming a movie nearby when the floods hit, and the crew immediately went to help with their equipment!"


    "And here¡¯s the kicker¡ªthe biggest equipment they brought was 13 helicopters!! And not just small ones either. Someone caught footage of them flying toward Lu?cheng¡ªhang on, I¡¯ll post the pics."


    Helicopters are a rare sight in China outside of tourist areas, let alone a whole fleet of over a dozen flying together. As they made their way to Lu?cheng, people below snapped photos the entire way.


    The crew never announced it was them¡ªthey just flew straight there. But with how fast news spreads online, people figured it out.


    The internet is full of experts. Just by looking at the photos, some could tell these weren¡¯t the usual government helicopters. Soon, someone dug up that they were actually from the set of Interstellar War.


    Interstellar War had been filming for almost a year, moving between locations, and the 13 helicopters had made plenty of appearances. While there weren¡¯t official reports, fans and movie buffs knew how extravagant this production was¡ªbuying real helicopters just for filming.


    The deeper fans even knew that all of them were privately owned by Sheng Quan, though it was mostly just shared within their circles.


    Now, buying 13 helicopters for a movie sounds impressive, but to the average person, it¡¯s just a fun fact.


    But when a film crew sends all 13 of their helicopters to aid a disaster zone? Even the most indifferent bystander would say, "That¡¯s amazing."


    And for the members of the FlyFlyFly drone enthusiasts¡¯ group, who were staring at a high-paying recruitment post for drone experts? They were beyond impressed.


    "I just looked it up¡ªone helicopter costs 70 million..."


    "Helicopters are a huge help in disaster relief, but flying in harsh conditions risks damage. Since this isn¡¯t a government collaboration, there¡¯s no compensation if they¡¯re wrecked. And they still sent all of them? Respect."


    "I never pay attention to the entertainment industry, but this Sheng Quan is seriously commendable. I¡¯m a fan now."


    Of course, not everyone in the group was a pro. There were beginners, hobbyists, and newbies who, no matter how fired up they were, had to reluctantly accept they couldn¡¯t join.


    But watching the experts prepare to head to the "frontlines" while they were stuck scrolling online left them feeling both envious and restless.


    And when they got restless?


    They needed to do something.


    Some kept refreshing disaster updates.


    Others started analyzing maps and takeoff conditions like it was a military operation.


    And then there were those bouncing between trending topics, screenshotting and commenting:


    "I think drones could fly here."


    "That area seems to be running low on meds¡ªthe pros should bring extra supplies."


    "Yeah, I saw footage of helicopters transporting the critically injured to Lucheng General Hospital, but the less severe cases still need meds."


    One member, Liaoliao, was among the "online wanderers." Though he was new to drones, this whole situation had him buzzing with excitement.


    He jumped between Weibo, trending topics, and keyboard-warrioring¡ªanything to feel involved.


    Then, he spotted a new hashtag:


    #XXDonates100KToLu?chengAndShoutsSupport


    The hashtag was clearly bought¡ªclicking in revealed almost no real engagement.


    In the past, Liaoliao might¡¯ve felt a twinge of annoyance¡ª"People are suffering, and you¡¯re just milking this for clout?"¡ªbut he wouldn¡¯t have said anything.


    After all, the person had donated 100K, and Liaoliao himself had only chipped in 100 yuan. Who was he to judge?


    But this time, he didn¡¯t scroll past.


    It felt unfair.


    Sheng Quan had sent 13 helicopters, bought 500 drones for on-site support, and even paid experts to operate them¡ªwith compensation!


    And she wasn¡¯t even trending?!


    With nothing else to do, Liaoliao decided to act.


    He opened the group chat and typed:


    "Guys, I just realized no one online knows about Sheng Quan¡¯s efforts. No one¡¯s talking about the helicopters, and even with so many drones, no one¡¯s crediting her."


    "That XX donated 100K and bought a hashtag¡ªwhy don¡¯t we get Sheng Quan trending too? The people actually doing the work shouldn¡¯t go unnoticed!"


    The group was already hyped about the "disaster relief mission," and Liaoliao¡¯s words lit a fire under the beginners who couldn¡¯t join.


    They needed this.


    "Right?! Why is no one mentioning Sheng Quan?"


    "This can¡¯t stand¡ªI¡¯ll go make posts and rally people!"


    "Everyone¡¯s checking charity donation lists, but Sheng Quan didn¡¯t just give money. The helicopters and drones she¡¯s using for relief? Converted to cash, they¡¯d dwarf the names on those lists."


    The large drone hobby group effectively split into two teams:


    One heading to the "frontlines."


    The other staying "back" to post.


    Their efforts soon spawned hashtags:


    #ShengQuanBuys500DronesForLu?chengRelief


    #ShengQuan¡¯s13Helicopters


    #InterstellarWarCrewSendsHelicoptersToDisasterZone


    With the entire nation focused on Lu?cheng¡¯s floods, the topics exploded instantly. Even without paid promotion, they shot into public view.


    More and more people joined in.


    "Wait, those helicopters were from a movie set?"


    "I checked Interstellar War¡¯s official page¡ªit¡¯s completely silent."


    "Of course it is¡ªthey¡¯re probably busy saving lives. Heard Lu?cheng¡¯s comms are still down in many areas."


    "Holy¡ªmy girl Sheng Quan!! I knew she¡¯d be helping somehow. She¡¯s not just donating cash¡ªshe¡¯s sending actual resources!"


    "Some might not grasp what 500 drones mean. On-site, they¡¯re like 500 flying rescuers¡ªable to reach places no one else can."


    "My aunt is in Lu?cheng, and she''s already gotten in touch with my mom. She said they were actually found by a drone¡ªI¡¯m so grateful for Sheng Quan¡¯s rescue efforts."


    "This is way more impactful than just donating money. As someone with family in Lu?cheng, thank you, Sheng Quan!"


    As more people joined the conversation, there was new progress in Lu?cheng.


    The busy officials received word:


    Thirty trucks loaded with all kinds of relief supplies had arrived.

 Chapter 71

    The flood in Lu?cheng had affected such a vast area that nearly everyone was scrambling to provide disaster relief under immense time pressure.


    There weren¡¯t enough rescue personnel.


    There weren¡¯t enough rescue equipment.


    Medical supplies on-site were insufficient.


    In large-scale disasters, resources are always stretched thin.


    Although nationwide donations were underway, even as funds poured in, it was uncertain whether they would be enough given the complete collapse of resources. Moreover, it wasn¡¯t as if a hundred yuan donated by someone in a certain province would instantly materialize as supplies in the disaster zone.


    At this point, time meant lives, so the arrival of helicopters and drones had already alleviated much of the urgency.


    But supplies remained a major issue.


    Food and water aside, even life-saving equipment took time to gather from various sources.


    Just then, Sheng Quan, who had already been a tremendous help, delivered another pleasant surprise.


    Several officials in charge of receiving supplies stood before the massive transport trucks, their faces alight with joy.


    "So many inflatable boats, motorboats, and rubber rafts! This is perfect¡ªwe¡¯re desperately short on these. With these, we can dispatch even more rescue teams."


    Another official, cross-checking the inventory list, couldn¡¯t help but murmur excitedly, "They even brought generators. This is a game-changer."


    "And so many tents! Let me see¡ªah, these are excellent. Thick, windproof, and waterproof. The troops who¡¯ve traveled far to assist can finally get some proper rest."


    "Not to mention all these blankets and warm clothing. So thoughtful¡ªevery single item hits the mark. Director Sheng, we can¡¯t thank you enough. With these supplies, the relief efforts will go much smoother."


    Truth be told, when they heard thirty trucks of relief supplies were en route, they were pleased but never imagined it would alleviate most of their struggles.


    The flood¡¯s scale was simply too vast. Typically, donations leaned toward food and water, but in many affected areas, those weren¡¯t the pressing needs.


    What they lacked were rescue tools. No matter how much food and water arrived, the actual rescue work would remain grueling without the right equipment.


    Then, just before receiving the shipment, they saw the inventory list.


    Thirty massive trucks, packed to the brim with exactly what they needed most.


    Especially the heavy-duty waterproof gear, tents, and blankets. The weather was far from warm, and rescuers often spent hours submerged in floodwaters, emerging shivering from the cold.


    Many of these responders had been deployed on short notice, leaving them under-equipped. Items like thick clothing might seem secondary, but they were absolutely critical.


    And the tents¡ªduring flood relief, it was common to see exhausted soldiers collapsing on roadsides or sandbags after grueling shifts.


    Even soldiers weren¡¯t made of iron. Sleeping on the ground was far from comfortable.


    During the day, it was manageable, but at night, when exhaustion, cold, and fatigue set in, a warm, spacious tent made all the difference.


    Sheng Quan¡¯s donated tents fit the bill perfectly: warm and roomy.


    She¡¯d even procured firewood. If not for the need to conserve generator power for essential electricity, she might¡¯ve added portable heaters too.


    "This is incredibly considerate."


    The officials grew more delighted as they inspected the supplies. Reading the list was one thing; seeing the actual items was another.


    When Sheng Quan had instructed her team to procure the supplies, she¡¯d emphasized quality above all¡ªpractical and durable. The procurement team marveled at the selections, admitting even they couldn¡¯t have arranged things better.


    "You must¡¯ve consulted professionals beforehand, right? Every single item here is twice as useful as we¡¯d hoped."


    Sheng Quan patted Jiang Lu¡¯s arm beside her.


    "He¡¯s a veteran. He participated in disaster relief during his service and has volunteered many times since. So he has plenty of experience in this area."


    Of course, she had her own insights too. Take the firewood, for instance¡ªpeople under stress often feel cold, and the injured or weak are especially vulnerable to it.


    After being rescued from an earthquake in her past, even wrapped in a military coat, Sheng Quan had shivered uncontrollably, longing for a roaring fire.


    Plus, fires could cook large meals, and a simple canopy would keep the rain out.


    But in this world, she had no such earthquake experience, so she credited everything to Jiang Lu.


    "Ah, a veteran!" The group nodded approvingly at Jiang Lu.


    Tall, solidly built¡ªhe certainly looked the part.


    A light drizzle began, and Jiang Lu held an umbrella over Sheng Quan. Even when she insisted a little rain was nothing, the usually obedient man quietly refused.


    Sheng Quan understood him well. "If I weren¡¯t here, you¡¯d be out there rescuing people, wouldn¡¯t you?"


    She didn¡¯t need to come personally¡ªa single order would¡¯ve delegated the task. But when it came to disaster relief, where one well-placed item could save a life, she wanted to oversee things herself.


    While she managed logistics, Jiang Lu stayed by her side.


    He wasn¡¯t much of a talker, but his actions spoke volumes. He was a doer, and one man¡¯s work equaled three.


    Sheng Quan would¡¯ve bet anything that if he weren¡¯t her aide, he¡¯d have volunteered for the rescue efforts, just as he had before.


    "If you went, you could save so many. You should go if you want¡ªI have others here with me."


    To her surprise, Jiang Lu shook his head.


    The towering man kept the umbrella over her as the drizzle fell. His usually intense dark eyes softened slightly as he said quietly,


    "You can save even more."


    Though no exact count had been taken, Sheng Quan had indeed saved countless lives already. From the moment she¡¯d been roused that morning, she hadn¡¯t stopped coordinating relief efforts.


    She wasn¡¯t particularly strong, nor did she have rescue experience. She hadn¡¯t once waded into the floodwaters.


    Yet every minute, someone caught their breath because of her decisions.


    Jiang Lu longed to join the rescues himself. Even after leaving the military, he still saw himself as a soldier.


    Sheng Quan had once joked that Jiang Lu embodied the quintessential image of a Chinese soldier¡ªjust standing there radiated safety.


    At this moment, Jiang Lu¡ªwho always gave people a strong sense of security¡ªdidn¡¯t deny that he wanted to join the rescue efforts. But he had already made his choice. This usually reserved and steady man now looked at Sheng Quan earnestly and promised,


    "I will stay by your side to protect you."


    Damn, why is he so smooth?


    Sheng ?????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????Quan thought to herself. It really was different when someone who rarely spoke suddenly said something so sweet.


    But she only dwelled on it for a moment before shifting her focus back to continuously purchasing supplies.


    The flood-affected area was still expanding. Helicopters and drones ensured rapid rescue operations, but when it came to logistics, Sheng Quan wanted to help as much as she could.


    Of course, Sheng Quan¡¯s idea of "helping" might be a little different from what others imagined.


    Take the military logistics teams rushing to the scene, for example. Most people¡ªeven the soldiers on the front lines¡ªprobably thought a tent was enough, or a blanket was enough.


    But Sheng Quan? Aside from tents, bedding, and warm clothes, she also wanted to buy folding beds.


    Why not allocate limited funds to other, more critical supplies?


    ¡ªBecause she had money.


    Not only could she direct funds toward essential supplies, but she could also spare plenty for other things.


    Sheng Quan started making calls again, spending vast sums of money and feeling a deep sense of satisfaction in return.


    Having witnessed in her past life the exhaustion of rescue soldiers who collapsed in their uniforms after grueling efforts, she wanted to do something now more than ever.


    Folding beds were expensive? Buy them!


    Cold weather and no electricity meant rescue workers could only eat cold food? Buy firewood! Buy pots! Hire chefs! Wait, you can¡¯t buy chefs¡ªso hire them!


    Transporting supplies was difficult? Throw money at the problem.


    Heavy equipment was hard to move to the front lines? Throw money at the problem.


    Rescue teams didn¡¯t have spare hands for miscellaneous tasks? Sheng Quan hired people to handle them herself.


    The truth was, with enough money, you really could solve ninety percent of your problems.


    It had been a while since she¡¯d last marveled at it, but today, she couldn¡¯t help but say it again:


    Being rich is amazing.


    Sheng Quan¡¯s contributions to disaster relief were so significant that when she proposed handling things her way, the leadership team held a brief meeting and handed the reins to her.


    And then Sheng Quan went on a spending spree.


    She had always spent money, but never before had she felt such exhilaration doing it!!!


    Every time she thought about how every penny she spent was saving lives, her heart swelled with joy.


    006 didn¡¯t stop her at all. Seeing its host so happy, it even cheered along, shouting "666!"


    If the prize draw system had been available, it would¡¯ve pulled out a dozen more helicopters for Sheng Quan without hesitation.


    Xu He was so exhausted his vision blurred. His body was drained, but his mind remained wired, his steps unsteady as he walked, shivering constantly from the cold.


    Whenever he felt like he couldn¡¯t go on, he¡¯d look up at the helicopters. There was no particular reason¡ªhe just liked them, and seeing them gave him a boost.


    Despite the biting cold, he was still happy inside.


    After all, he had saved lives today.


    A veteran who had just stepped back from the front lines¡ªthough a little later than Xu He¡ªraised a waterlogged, pale, and wrinkled hand and patted his arm. "Come on, let¡¯s get some rest."


    This was Xu He¡¯s first disaster relief mission. He glanced around and suggested, "Let¡¯s rest up ahead."


    The veteran twisted his stiff neck. "Just find a spot to lie down."


    Xu He: "Huh?"


    The veteran, speaking from experience, said, "It¡¯s only our first day. In urgent rescue situations like this, everyone¡¯s too busy to arrange proper lodging. Didn¡¯t we bring mats? Find a relatively flat spot and make do."


    He frowned at Xu He¡¯s expression. "What¡¯s with that look? With so many people rushing to help, it¡¯s normal not to have a place to sleep. You can¡¯t expect a bunch of tents and beds to magically appear in such a short time. Clearing space isn¡¯t easy either."


    Xu He blinked in confusion and pointed ahead. "But over there... there are a bunch of tents and beds."


    "What are you talking about? I checked earlier¡ªthere was nothing. You think this is some TV drama where supplies just fall from the sky on command? Dream on¡ª"


    The veteran lifted his gaze and, spotting the sprawling cluster of tents, swallowed the rest of his words.


    There really were.


    But... they hadn¡¯t been there before.


    Where did they come from?


    Xu He: "Supplies... from the sky?"


    The veteran: "..."


    The two exchanged a glance, then slowly looked up.


    ¡ªToward the heavens.

 Chapter 72

    No one could blame them for finding the scene surreal¡ªafter all, it wasn¡¯t just the cluster of tents ahead.


    Tall, sleek black mechanical dogs moved with imposing grace, their long limbs exuding both mechanical might and aesthetic beauty. They carried heavy loads of supplies on their backs, delivering them with unwavering stability.


    Further ahead stood a massive red vehicle, roughly the size of a small truck. Its bold red hue made it impossible to miss, but what truly caught the eye were its futuristic, streamlined contours and the four elongated mechanical arms extending from its frame.


    Thick, rugged black treaded wheels gave it a solid, heavy base, allowing its four arms to bear tremendous weight. In just half a minute, it had effortlessly cleared a vast stretch of "open ground."


    Once the giant red vehicle finished its work, a smaller black vehicle¡ªabout a third of its size¡ªfollowed behind. Equipped with only two mechanical arms, it worked in tandem: the front arm swept away remaining pebbles and dirt piles, while the rear arm evenly scattered fine soil.


    After the black vehicle passed, three even smaller green vehicles appeared. Each had just one mechanical arm¡ªa thick, extended steel plate. As they advanced, the green vehicles pressed the steel plates firmly into the fine soil, compacting it into smooth, even "ground."


    And just like that, the perfect environment for tents and foldable shelters was ready.


    The entire assembly-line operation left the newly arrived rescue workers, who had been assigned to rest here, utterly dumbfounded.


    Individually, these functions were impressive, but not enough to be jaw-dropping. What truly stunned everyone was the sheer surrealism of these vehicles'' designs.


    The large ones were enormous, the small ones tiny¡ªyet each boasted an incredibly sleek aesthetic. Their fluid lines, awe-inspiring yet oddly plausible exteriors, and glossy finishes that radiated futuristic vibes made them look like something out of a sci-fi movie.


    For those seeing this spectacle for the first time, one thought inevitably sprang to mind:


    Is this still Earth?


    "Technically speaking, these products belong to Earth fifty years from now¡ªthat¡¯s the setting of our film," explained Sheng Quan, introducing the "futuristic tech" as their owner.


    "Their performance and utility are exaggerated for the movie. For example, these vehicles currently require manual operation, but in the film, we¡¯ll portray them as autonomous."


    A nearby official couldn¡¯t help but glance repeatedly at the towering machines.


    "Even with human control, they¡¯re already mind-blowing. Is this how movies are usually made?"


    She wasn¡¯t familiar with the film industry, but even she doubted that most productions used real, functioning tech like this.


    "Not usually," Sheng Quan clarified. "It¡¯s because we¡¯re collaborating with C University students on research projects. These are their achievements, which we¡¯re repurposing for the film."


    Truthfully, even she hadn¡¯t expected so many students to produce tangible results in less than a year.


    Whenever a new prototype emerged, no matter how busy she was, Sheng Quan made sure to be the first to see and test it.


    And honestly? It felt amazing.


    Another common trait among the student projects she funded was their practicality¡ªand their stunning aesthetics.


    This wasn¡¯t just due to her own preference for good design. Since these "high-tech innovations" were destined for the big screen, artistic enhancement was a necessity.


    So, whenever a student project neared completion, the dedicated R&D department (one she¡¯d newly established) would immediately assign professional designers to refine its appearance.


    The goal? To maximize visual appeal without compromising functionality, creating a sense of otherworldly futurism for moviegoers.


    And the design teams had undeniably succeeded.


    Even the official marveled, "They really don¡¯t look like they belong in our era."


    "The futuristic vibe is intentional¡ªit¡¯s meant to match audiences¡¯ expectations of ¡®future tech,¡¯" Sheng Quan explained with a smile. "But despite their looks, they¡¯re very much products of our time. These are just semi-finished prototypes for filming. The finalized versions should be ready within five years."


    "These are only semi-finished?" The official stared in disbelief at the massive vehicles at work. "If this is what the prototypes can do, the final versions must be mind-boggling."


    She¡¯d seen the news about Sheng Quan¡¯s investments in C University¡¯s student projects¡ªafter all, even the central government had praised the initiative. At the time, the focus had been on how Sheng Quan was nurturing young talent and creating opportunities.


    But back then, she¡¯d never imagined these students would actually produce something so groundbreaking.


    As an official, she could immediately envision the real-world applications of this technology. The mechanical dogs alone¡ªcapable of hauling heavy supplies through harsh conditions¡ªhad countless potential uses.


    And these vehicles? Absolutely astonishing.


    "Maybe they¡¯re not ¡®mature¡¯ by finished-product standards, but for disaster relief, these innovations have been a godsend."


    After praising them, though, she couldn¡¯t help voicing a concern: "I don¡¯t watch many movies, but aren¡¯t film details usually kept under wraps? Won¡¯t bringing these vehicles here for relief work spoil the movie¡¯s impact?"


    "Right now, that¡¯s the last thing on our minds," Sheng Quan replied, unconcerned. "Besides, Star Wars has way more props than just these. We only brought the ones that could actually help here. The movie has far more jaw-dropping visuals."


    The official: "..."


    She looked up at the already awe-inspiring vehicles, then at the mechanical dogs steadily marching in the distance, struggling to imagine anything more impressive.


    Normally, she avoided movies¡ªespecially sci-fi¡ªbut faced with these towering, futuristic machines, she suddenly felt that maybe science fiction wasn¡¯t so bad after all.


    At the very least, this Star Wars probably wouldn¡¯t disappoint.


    Silently, she resolved to take her family to see it when it premiered.


    Partly out of curiosity.


    But mostly out of respect for Sheng Quan, whose contributions to the relief efforts had been extraordinary.


    After ?????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????years in disaster response, she could easily spot who genuinely cared¡ªand Sheng Quan, who delivered exactly what was needed and personally oversaw operations on-site, stood out even among philanthropists.


    Sure, other CEOs and celebrities had shown up before¡ªsnapped a few photos, "inspected" the area, and left. Some even brought their own media teams to hype their "heroic efforts" later.


    To be honest, as a disaster relief worker, she wasn¡¯t particularly bothered by such behavior. After all, the donors had genuinely contributed money, regardless of whether they were using the opportunity to boost their image. As long as help was provided, if they wanted recognition in return, the relief team was happy to oblige.


    That said, just because she wasn¡¯t bothered didn¡¯t mean she respected them in her heart.


    But Sheng Quan was completely different.


    She didn¡¯t personally visit the "front lines" or go to the flood sites. She was always accompanied by bodyguards and assistants, making her presence almost invisible amid the bustling relief efforts.


    Yet, she and the other relief workers could see every decision she made and every substantial sum of money she contributed.


    They knew just how much Sheng Quan had shouldered behind the scenes to make the relief operations run so smoothly.


    After nearly three years in her position, this was the first time the team leader felt compelled to proactively call the media to properly highlight the contributions of this young entrepreneur.


    She had already decided¡ªwhen the media came for interviews, she would make sure to mention Sheng Quan and the film she was currently shooting, letting everyone know that behind this rescue effort, there was a film crew silently giving their all.


    As it turned out, she wasn¡¯t the only one thinking this way.


    With the Lvcheng flood disaster gaining more attention and the rescue operations proceeding in an orderly manner, more and more on-site photos began circulating online.


    While people were concerned about the floods, they were also surprised to discover that this rescue effort featured an unprecedented number of advanced tools.


    Helicopters weren¡¯t unheard of in past disasters, but the sight of thirteen choppers soaring through the sky was nothing short of spectacular.


    Then there were the rescue drones. As the frontline communication networks gradually recovered, someone uploaded a photo they had taken.


    The photographer, who usually shared their work on public platforms with little traction, suddenly found this particular image going viral¡ªadopted by multiple media outlets within just two hours of posting.


    And for good reason¡ªthe photo was absolutely breathtaking.


    The murky floodwaters, filled with debris from collapsed buildings, uprooted trees, and overturned vehicles, stretched endlessly into the distance, a terrifying sight. In the middle of it all, a dozen rescue boats looked pitifully small against the vast, watery ruins surrounding them.


    Yet, despite the overwhelming yellow-brown floodwaters, the rescuers showed no fear.


    And above them, countless drones blanketed the sky like an unshakable shield.


    It wasn¡¯t an exaggeration to say that every netizen who saw this photo was deeply moved.


    Especially when, in the corner of the image, one could spot a damaged drone¡ªits wing broken¡ªslowly descending, while behind it, another drone rose to take its place.


    It was awe-inspiring.


    Heart-stirring.


    This photo instantly became the crown jewel of all disaster images.


    If the hashtag #ShengQuanDrones had previously been kept alive by a niche group of netizens, this photo changed everything. After being widely reposted by major media outlets, even those who rarely used Weibo saw the massive drone rescue operation unfold across other platforms.


    Middle-aged audiences, in particular¡ªmany of whom had children and typically avoided trendy social media¡ªfound themselves unable to contain their excitement after seeing the photo. They were desperate to learn more about what had happened during this relief effort.


    And so, they discovered the thirteen helicopters, the five hundred drones.


    They learned about the thirty trucks delivering supplies, the film crew that had paused production to join the flood rescue.


    Digging deeper, they found Sheng Quan¡¯s investments in student research, her bold declaration that "they are creating the future," and her donation of 100 million through "The Voice of You," proving that entertainment and charity could go hand in hand.


    And now, she had truly lived up to that ideal¡ªwhen floods struck near her film set, she led her entire crew in a full-force disaster response.


    The fact that she had accomplished so much at just over twenty years old left people in awe.


    Countless households echoed the same sentiment:


    "Look at Sheng Quan¡ªsee how socially responsible she is? She¡¯s your age and already contributing to society. Meanwhile, all you do is eat and sleep. Read this article about her leading her crew in disaster relief and learn something!"


    The baffled children on the receiving end of these lectures: "?? Mom, Dad, wake up! Who am I supposed to lead into a disaster zone? Our two cats?!"


    "We¡¯re telling you to learn from her spirit! Don¡¯t you always buy movie tickets? Find out when this film is coming out¡ªyour dad and I are going to watch it. This kind of dedication deserves our support."


    Suddenly, their kids snapped to attention:


    "Wait¡ªSheng Quan? A film crew doing disaster relief? Where¡¯s my phone? This has to be trending... Holy¡ªfive hundred drones?! Holy¡ªthat many helicopters?! Holy¡ªthirty trucks of emergency supplies prepped in no time?! Holy¡ªOW! Dad, stop hitting me, I¡¯ll stop saying ¡®holy¡¯!"


    Thanks to media coverage, #ShengQuanHardcoreRelief wasn¡¯t just a topic among the younger generation anymore¡ªit had spread to middle-aged and elderly audiences who usually only followed serious news.


    Newspapers, pre-installed news apps, TV reports.


    They didn¡¯t use Weibo or video platforms, but when it came to influence, these older demographics¡ªwho mostly watched TV or used Feixin¡ªwere anything but weak.


    And every single thing Sheng Quan had done resonated deeply with them.


    The fact that she was so young only made her achievements even more admirable in their eyes.


    While younger netizens were still spamming comments like "OMG LEGENDARY 666," the older generation was already voicing their admiration through every available channel.


    But regardless of age, people were ready to show their support in tangible ways. Even if they couldn¡¯t donate to disaster relief, could they at least follow Sheng Quan, shower her with praise, and spread the word?


    Some planned to watch her movie when it released.


    Others immediately started researching whether Sheng Quan had other businesses¡ªonly to find that her biggest venture was Starlight Entertainment.


    So, Starlight¡¯s TV dramas? Must-watch!


    Starlight¡¯s artist albums? Must-buy!


    Starlight¡¯s celebrities? Must-follow!


    Especially for the currently filming "Battle of the Stars," one broke student even came up with a genius support strategy:


    "Starting today, I¡¯ll save 50 cents a day. A movie ticket costs around a few dozen yuan¡ªif I keep this up, I¡¯ll have enough in about three months! One ticket might not mean much, but I¡¯ll keep saving just to support Sheng Quan!"


    Honestly, what Sheng Quan had done was just too impressive.


    Especially since people online were already calculating how much all those resources must have cost¡ªthough, truthfully, even without exact numbers, everyone could guess it was a staggering sum.


    How could this not stir their hearts and make them want to show their support? Those with money had their ways of supporting, and those without money had theirs too.


    In short, everyone wanted to contribute their share, to ensure Sheng Quan received the recognition she deserved¡ªto let her see that they all stood by her.


    And Sheng Quan did see it.


    She was swamped with work and hadn¡¯t had time to check online. At that moment, she was busy calculating the balance of her personal savings when her assistant in Shanghai called.


    The news left Chairwoman Sheng utterly stunned: "What did you say? Are you sure?"


    The assistant replied, "It¡¯s true. Even I found it hard to believe at first."


    "That luosifen factory under your ownership? It sold out completely in just two hours."


    "Not a single bag left."

 Chapter 73

    Ever since the night she won a snail noodle factory in a lucky draw while craving a late-night snack, Sheng Quan¡¯s approach to managing it has been straightforward: tweak the recipe and source better ingredients.


    After all, a factory reduced to selling itself wasn¡¯t exactly thriving. A quick investigation revealed that the factory had once been successful but faltered due to poor management and stiff competition.


    Sheng Quan didn¡¯t expect it to make her a fortune¡ªafter all, it was just a prize from a random draw. Though winning a snail noodle factory while craving the dish was absurdly coincidental, the thought of eating noodles produced by her own factory did bring her some satisfaction.


    Food safety was non-negotiable, and the flavor could be adjusted to her liking. She didn¡¯t know how hygienic the factory had been before, but under her ownership, cleanliness became the top priority.


    If she were buying from someone else, she might overlook it, but since it was her own factory, why not make it both clean and delicious?


    After months of adjustments, the factory now produced noodles that perfectly matched Sheng Quan¡¯s taste, and its hygiene standards were among the best in the industry (unsurprising, since the boss ate them too).


    Sheng Quan was quite pleased. She even toyed with the idea of investing in instant noodles, hot dry noodles, spicy sour noodles, beef offal noodles, and more if she ever got richer.


    Don¡¯t ask why someone with her wealth still loved such simple fare¡ªpersonal taste was personal taste. Just like how she couldn¡¯t resist junk food despite knowing its downsides.


    However, after rebranding as "Xiangxiang Snail," the factory remained obscure due to its hiatus and lack of advertising.


    Sheng Quan¡¯s original plan was straightforward: maintain quality, slowly build a loyal customer base, and grow the brand over time.


    ¡ªAnd, of course, keep producing flavors she loved.


    But just as the factory took its first tentative step forward, the internet decided to strap a rocket to its back and launch it into the stratosphere.


    After a phone call, Sheng Quan, who had mostly retired from social media, opened Weibo and found her name trending at number three.


    Sheng Quan, who was no stranger to buying promotions: "..."


    This time, she hadn¡¯t paid for it.


    Grabbing a small stool, she sat down and scrolled through the details.


    Fifteen minutes later, she pieced together the story. It started when drone enthusiasts, hired for a project, discovered that Starlight Entertainment hadn¡¯t publicized their "500 drones" contribution. They took screenshots and shared them online, sparking organic promotion.


    Then, reporters covering the flood relief efforts interviewed frontline leaders, who openly praised Sheng Quan by name, commending her actions on camera.


    Finally, a single photo captured it all¡ªthe ruthlessness of the flood, the perilous conditions rescuers faced, and the undeniable impact of those 500 drones.


    The public¡¯s pent-up enthusiasm ignited instantly.


    Like Sheng Quan in her past life, most people wanted to help during disasters but were tied down by school or work. At most, they could donate and leave a "Stay safe" comment online.


    So when someone like Sheng Quan appeared¡ªrushing to the frontlines, donating supplies, mobilizing every transport resource at her disposal¡ª


    Asking for nothing in return.


    Seeking no fame.


    She was the first entrepreneur on-site and the largest donor, yet she remained in the shadows.


    How could netizens, limited to sending virtual blessings, not admire her?


    If they couldn¡¯t go to the disaster zone, couldn¡¯t they at least support the ethical businesses trying to help?


    [Not just Sheng Quan¡ªI checked the list. All Starlight Entertainment¡¯s artists donated, and like their boss, none of them publicized it. Whatever their reasons, I¡¯ve liked and followed every one of them.]


    [And don¡¯t forget those tall, sleekly dressed guys and gals in the photo! They¡¯re from Starlight Security¡ªtrainers and trainees alike¡ªhere to help too!]


    [Also, I spotted directors Xu Man and Wan Bao! Are those crew members behind them? Rumor has it the actors wanted to come but were held back. Starlight¡¯s whole team is pitching in!]


    [Jiang Zhen¡¯s donation amount... Did he just give away half a year¡¯s salary?]


    [Hua Qing, Ming Qi, and Lin Aike too. Starlight¡¯s artists are all gems.]


    Final verdict: Quietly saving lives without recognition? Not on our watch!


    As for why "Xiangxiang Snail" became the focus...


    Not everyone follows celebrities, and Starlight Entertainment was Sheng Quan¡¯s most prominent venture.


    Just as people wondered where to direct their support, someone discovered "Xiangxiang Snail."


    A pack of snail noodles wasn¡¯t expensive, and "Xiangxiang Snail" was already budget-friendly¡ªplus, buyers could enjoy the noodles themselves.


    So, one pack here, one pack there, some even bought by the crate. When one flavor sold out, fans pestered customer service to restock.


    Sheng Quan scrolled through the entire saga of "Xiangxiang Snail" being bought out.


    [They even have tomato flavor? Sold!]


    [You guys are too fast! Tomato¡¯s already gone by the time I got here.]


    [Extra spicy and stinky is back in stock! Just grabbed ten bags, hahaha!]


    [LOL, I saw the restock notification, but it¡¯s already sold out again.]


    [The jumbo pack¡¯s still available! Let me at it!!]


    [Got off work and rushed over¡ªalready sold out. The store¡¯s announcement is hilarious now.]


    [HAHAHA I saw it too! After being bombarded with "Do you have any left?" the customer service changed the notice to: "Seriously, we¡¯re out! Not a single pack left!" Priceless.]


    Sheng Quan couldn¡¯t help but grin, almost typing out a reply: "Hahaha too bad I missed it, would¡¯ve loved to help clear the shelves!"


    Then it hit her.


    Oh, right. She wasn¡¯t just a meme-loving netizen anymore.


    She was the one whose shelves had been cleared.


    The current manager of Xiangxiang Snail, promoted from the factory¡¯s original staff, was a man in his late forties¡ªsteady, principled, and meticulous.


    That was exactly why Sheng Quan chose him. A food factory didn¡¯t need a slick operator, just someone who followed the rules.


    Her original plan was to separate the sales division from the factory once Xiangxiang Snail gained traction.


    But for now, it was still flying under the radar.


    Then, the honest and diligent general manager, who always followed instructions and worked steadfastly, found himself both bewildered and delighted by the situation. He had no choice but to turn to the headquarters for guidance.


    He said in confusion, "I told them we really had no stock left and advised them to consume rationally, but they seemed even more eager to buy. They kept urging us to ramp up production."


    Sheng Quan: "..."


    Not surprising at all.


    This was just how netizens behaved. In such cases, the more a manufacturer emphasized the lack of stock and urged people not to impulse-buy, the more determined they became to purchase.


    This straightforward general manager certainly hadn¡¯t intended to promote the product deliberately, but things had a way of working out unexpectedly¡ªsometimes, the most unplanned efforts bore the sweetest fruit. His response had only fueled the enthusiasm of the online crowd.


    Though they weren¡¯t actively pushing for publicity, who would turn down easy money?


    After half a minute of consideration, Sheng Quan said, "Increase production to match the sales demand, but make sure employees get proper rest. Overtime pay should follow regulations. Since everyone will be working hard this month, double the performance bonuses at the end of the month."


    "Got it!"


    Sheng Quan added, "Also, display a notice in the store: to give back to the public, Xiangxianglu will donate 20 cents for every pack of snail noodles sold, to support flood relief efforts, until the disaster is over."


    "Twenty cents?" The general manager¡¯s tone turned cautious. "Chairwoman, I have no objections to donations, but isn¡¯t 20 cents too much?"


    Xiangxianglu Luosi Rice Noodles was already priced affordably, and production costs had risen significantly due to higher-quality ingredients and equipment. Now that they finally had a surge in sales and a glimpse of profitability, donating 20 cents per pack would mean losing a substantial chunk of revenue.


    "It will indeed cut into profits, but we won¡¯t operate at a loss. Don¡¯t think of 20 cents as too much¡ªcompared to the reputation we¡¯ll build during this time, it¡¯s a small price."


    In fact, the goodwill might even reflect positively on Starlight Entertainment or their other ventures.


    After finishing the call with Xiangxianglu¡¯s general manager, Sheng Quan dialed Starlight Entertainment and instructed their HR department to start recruiting management personnel for sales operations.


    She had high hopes for Xiangxianglu''s future. Mainly because she had tasted the product herself¡ªand based on Sheng Quan''s extensive experience with luosi fen (snail noodles) across two lifetimes, she knew it was only a matter of time before her luosi fen factory took off.


    Now, thanks to this unexpected event, even time was no longer a factor.


    The phrase she had applied to the general manager could be reused here: Sometimes, the most unplanned efforts bore the sweetest fruit.


    She had orchestrated countless promotions before, and the most successful ones had only gone viral online.


    But this time, without lifting a finger¡ªno paid trending searches, no marketing push, just quietly working in Lu?cheng¡ªthe buzz had skyrocketed faster than ever.


    Take the Starlight Manor event, for example. It had been covered extensively, creating the illusion of widespread popularity, but in reality, most of the hype was limited to young netizens and stayed confined to the internet.


    This time, however, was different. The Chinese people had a unique trait: while they might not pay much attention to news from other provinces under normal circumstances, when a province faced a natural disaster like floods, the entire nation¡¯s focus would converge there.


    Regardless of age, gender, or profession, those with means donated money or supplies, while others followed the updates closely.


    Events during such times often gained unprecedented attention almost instantly.


    And this incident was practically stacked with viral elements.


    Helicopter and drone rescues captured the attention of younger audiences.


    Thirty truckloads of relief supplies and a young entrepreneur leading her entire crew to assist in disaster relief drew the interest of middle-aged and older demographics.


    Drone enthusiasts were urgently recruited to operate 500 drones in Lu?cheng, with an entire university drone club "deploying" to the scene¡ªthis resonated with college students and drone hobbyists.


    The ?????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????Starlight Security personnel accompanying Sheng Quan were all ex-military, earning public goodwill and leaving an impression on military circles previously unfamiliar with the company.


    Her actions during the disaster had also won the government¡¯s appreciation and support. While there hadn¡¯t been any official recognition yet¡ªflood relief was still ongoing¡ªshe was likely to receive some form of commendation once things settled.


    At the very least, judging by the interviews with frontline disaster relief officials, Sheng Quan could tell they were deliberately mentioning her name.


    She couldn¡¯t help but feel a sense of emotion. Now, she finally had a moment to reflect. Though the floods were still ongoing, the most chaotic and overwhelming phase had passed.


    Relief supplies from across the country had either arrived or were on their way. Having survived the initial crisis, the dire shortage of resources had finally eased.


    Sheng Quan sat on her small stool, resting her head on a piece of wood for a quick nap.


    "People really do get spoiled by comfort," she mused. "After just two days of nonstop work¡ªwith even a four-hour nap in between¡ªI¡¯m already exhausted. Back when I was a corporate drone, I could pull month-long high-intensity shifts fueled by nothing but coffee."


    Still, she didn¡¯t mind the fatigue. Some tasks could be delegated, but this was something she preferred handling personally, even if it meant pushing herself.


    There was no time to trek back to a tent for proper sleep, so Chairwoman Sheng made do with the wooden plank.


    Jiang Lu took off his jacket and draped it over the wood. Sheng Quan thanked him with a smile before promptly dozing off.


    He didn¡¯t rest himself. Instead, he positioned himself to block the light and wind for her.


    Rescue workers passing by made a conscious effort to move quietly. Unlike the fragmented glimpses online, these people had witnessed firsthand how tirelessly Sheng Quan had worked to support disaster relief efforts.


    If nothing else, the large pots of hot soup and mobile shower trucks¡ªset up before other supplies could arrive¡ªhad made a tangible difference in their lives.


    Had they had the time to go online, these disaster relief personnel would have shared their genuine impressions, ensuring that more people knew:


    Sheng Quan deserved every bit of praise.


    Whether it was sheer exhaustion or the hushed movements around her, Sheng Quan slept soundly for a full half-hour.


    When she woke up, she was refreshed.


    Stretching, she checked the time. "Let¡¯s go see if that batch of medical equipment has arrived yet."


    This batch of medical equipment wasn¡¯t purchased by her. After splurging extensively from her personal savings, she currently couldn¡¯t afford such expensive medical devices.


    But then, the prize pool opened.


    Sheng Quan happily drew many high-value medical-related items, including even a large mobile medical treatment vehicle.


    This vehicle was likely the most expensive prize in the pool. Though it appeared to be just a truck, its interior was equipped with a perfectly functional medical environment for field conditions¡ªin other words, it came loaded with numerous expensive medical devices.


    It had to be said, ever since the system lifted various restrictions, the satisfaction factor had truly doubled.


    Sheng Quan planned to incorporate this incredibly expensive medical vehicle into filming after the disaster relief efforts concluded, letting the audience experience the same awe she felt when she first saw it.


    When she went to collect it, the medical staff were indeed stunned.


    "This equipment must¡¯ve cost a fortune¡ªis this newly purchased?"


    "Is this a mobile treatment unit? Let me take a look... Oh my... Director, come quick!"


    They already knew Sheng Quan had contributed a significant amount of medicine, continuously purchasing and transporting more to the site. But they never expected her to also acquire such advanced medical equipment.


    The way everyone looked at Sheng Quan was filled with admiration.


    Just how much money had this cost?!


    Sheng Quan: Bet you didn¡¯t see that coming¡ªhonestly, neither did I.


    She had assumed the prize pool might offer medicine or other relief supplies. The interval between draws hadn¡¯t been long, so logically, she shouldn¡¯t have been able to win so many expensive devices.


    All credit went to 006.


    Once the disaster relief efforts ended, these medical vehicles and equipment could be placed in the "medical room" in her villa.


    Yes, her villa had a medical room¡ªit just hadn¡¯t been stocked with medical equipment yet, as she planned to buy them later when her finances were a bit more... flexible.


    Now, problem solved.


    Not only did it serve a purpose during the disaster, but it also saved her the trouble of buying them herself later.


    A well-rested Chairwoman Sheng was in excellent spirits.


    As she predicted, once the time lag caused by the flood passed, resources gradually arrived, and the disaster relief efforts entered a well-organized phase. Most trapped individuals had already been rescued, and the drone squadron was successfully disbanded.


    At the farewell, the drone enthusiasts were practically reluctant to part ways.


    Perhaps before this, flying drones had just been a hobby for them¡ªone that sometimes drew skepticism from those around them.


    But from now on, they could confidently say, "I¡¯ve used drones to save lives too."


    By the time disaster relief was mostly wrapped up, the film crew¡¯s large props¡ªwhich had only been active in the military rest area¡ªbegan their exit.


    When they first arrived at night, during the busiest hours, almost every corner was occupied with moving relief supplies or large vehicles coming in, so they naturally went unnoticed by the public.


    Afterward, they remained hidden in the rear, working diligently. Under those circumstances, even if someone spotted them, no one had the time to film or post about it online.


    But now, with the disaster relief nearly over, everyone had time to spare.


    A clearly recorded video surfaced online, revealing their presence in the logistics area.


    When those sleek, towering, futuristic-designed mechanical vehicles and robotic dogs traversing the sandy terrain appeared before everyone, people were utterly baffled.


    Their sci-fi, cutting-edge aesthetics immediately sparked wild imaginations.


    The first reaction was: "Is this real or fake??"


    If fake, they looked way too real.


    If real...


    Weren¡¯t we just in a heartwarming disaster relief segment? How did this suddenly turn into sci-fi?


    A staff member eventually clarified: "Don¡¯t misunderstand¡ªthese are props provided by the Interstellar War film crew, used to assist in rescue operations."


    Netizens: "???"


    They stared at the mechanical arms, then the robotic dogs, and finally the rescue robots.


    And you¡¯re telling us... these things are props??

 Chapter 74

    The current situation is that the authorities claim the disaster relief equipment to be props, but netizens simply refuse to believe it.


    And you can¡¯t blame them. Sure, they might reluctantly accept that the underwater rescue robot is a prop¡ªafter all, despite its name, it doesn¡¯t look humanoid, just a sleek yellow rectangular box, somewhat resembling commercial underwater rescue devices.


    ¡ªExcept it looks way too futuristic.


    But the robotic dogs and the heavy-duty vehicles with large mechanical arms? There¡¯s no way those could pass as "props" made by a film crew.


    Especially since they were visibly deployed in the disaster relief efforts.


    Even The Cultivator, famous for its hyper-realistic props, only nailed the appearance¡ªno one actually saw dragons flying or fairies activating sect-protecting barriers.


    Okay, maybe that¡¯s a weird comparison, but it highlights how absurd the official explanation sounds to everyone.


    The authorities had no choice but to respond with a formal, detailed statement:


    "To ensure an immersive cinematic experience, the Stellar War production team collaborated with C University¡¯s research department..."


    The Stellar War crew¡¯s official account also stepped in, releasing photos of these "futuristic products" on set, alongside candid shots of actors posing with them in casual wear, captioned:


    [They really are props.]


    Netizens: "..."


    Sheng Quan¡¯s research collaboration with C University students had previously earned praise from central authorities, with both entertainment and official media covering it extensively.


    Back then, everyone applauded¡ªbut no one expected actual results to come out of it.


    [You¡¯re telling me these high-tech gadgets, which look like they time-traveled from the future, were made by a bunch of students in a year???]


    [Honestly hard to believe. If it were seasoned professors, maybe...]


    [Screw it, real or not, I¡¯m sold! Forget the movie¡ªare they selling merch?!]


    [That robotic dog is next-level cool, and it moves so smoothly. Students really built this?]


    [I remember this! It was funded by Sheng Quan. C University students still call her ¡®senior,¡¯ right?]


    Then someone floated a wild theory:


    [What if¡ªjust a thought¡ªour country actually developed this advanced tech but kept it classified? The flood in Lu?cheng was so severe they had to deploy it, but now they¡¯re exposed. Since Stellar War is a sci-fi film and was also helping with relief, they¡¯re using it as cover. Pure speculation, don¡¯t @ me (munching popcorn).]


    This instantly shot to the top of the trending list, racking up 3K+ replies in a day.


    [Not impossible. Some R&D projects are classified¡ªeither in progress or post-completion.] (Joining the speculation.)


    [It¡¯s true. We¡¯re already living in the future; the gov just doesn¡¯t want to freak us out. But I¡¯m ready! Hit me with the sci-fi shockwaves!] (Memeing.)


    [Let¡¯s be real, those machines do look straight out of a space movie. Probably just props¡ªit¡¯s not like we leaped to interstellar tech overnight.] (Logical take.)


    [Nah, you¡¯re all wrong. This is alien tech. Earth¡¯s made first contact, and this ¡®leak¡¯ is phase one of acclimating us!] (Unclear if serious or trolling.)


    As always, international tabloids caught wind and reposted the clips¡ªwithout the "props" disclaimer.


    So foreign netizens saw: a bustling disaster zone, military tents, uniformed personnel working... alongside unmistakably futuristic machines.


    A towering black robotic dog, its metallic exoskeleton gleaming, strode calmly past a petite crew member, the sheer size difference making it look even more imposing.


    Cue the same meltdown the Chinese internet had earlier.


    [What is this?? Real or CGI???]


    [That¡¯s Mandarin in the background¡ªmust be China.]


    [The vehicle looks armored, like a specialized rig. Insanely cool. What¡¯s it for?]


    ¡¾Has China''s technology already reached the level of deploying mechanical dogs? Can they follow commands? Do they bite?¡¿


    If "cultivation" only recently gained global popularity due to The Cultivator, then "high-tech" has long been a fascination for anyone who spends time online.


    Just like Sheng Quan, even though current technological advancements already make life incredibly comfortable, who wouldn¡¯t want to step into an even more convenient and thrilling future?


    Take the vehicles in this video, for example¡ªmassive or compact, equipped with specialized mechanical arms¡ªfew people dug deep into their purpose.


    Most netizens were fixated on the mechanical dogs.


    They looked undeniably cool, clearly capable of hauling heavy loads, and their imposing size even sparked imaginative questions like, "Can you ride them? Like a horse?"


    After reactions like "So cool! I wish they were real, but they probably aren¡¯t," international netizens were quickly "corrected" by Chinese users.


    These futuristic machines, which looked like they¡¯d been added with special effects, were actually real¡ªand they belonged to a Chinese film crew, serving as their on-set props.


    History repeated itself: foreign netizens expressed shock and disbelief.


    They¡¯d seen Chinese soldiers in the footage.


    Wasn¡¯t this supposed to be some kind of secret research facility?


    Otherwise, why would soldiers be stationed there?


    Then came the explanation:


    ¡¾Chinese soldiers aren¡¯t just for warfare. During major disasters, they¡¯re deployed to rescue civilians.¡¿


    ¡¾Their military and police are deeply respected by the people because they always stand at the frontlines during crises.¡¿


    A Chinese netizen shared an official statement:


    ¡¾These high-tech machines appeared at the scene because the film crew was shooting in a nearby city. When the flood disaster struck, they paused production to join the relief efforts.¡¿


    Despite national differences, after seeing the news images and translated descriptions, the Interstellar War crew received unanimous praise.


    ¡¾Well done!¡¿


    ¡¾A crew like this deserves support. Will their movie be released in our country?¡¿


    ¡¾This gets me fired up!¡¿


    Of course, amid the acclaim, skepticism lingered¡ªhow could these possibly just be movie props?


    If ?????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????they¡¯d debuted in a film, people would¡¯ve believed it. But their first appearance was at a disaster site, where they played a crucial role. How could anyone accept they were merely props?


    Then, the experts began weighing in.


    Their arrival shifted the tone to something more academic. Whether they were just keyboard warriors or actual industry heavyweights, they dissected the footage with jargon and perspectives the average netizen could never have imagined.


    The conclusion?


    ¡¾These creations do require advanced tech, but they¡¯re not beyond current scientific capabilities. Globally, over a dozen teams are working on similar projects¡ªmost just haven¡¯t produced results or only have prototypes.¡¿


    ¡¾And here¡¯s something you might¡¯ve missed: the Interstellar War crew referred to them as "prototypes," meaning the final versions will be even more advanced and stable.¡¿


    ¡¾I agree with #233. If prototypes are already functional enough for filming, the finished products can¡¯t be far off. But one thing puzzles me¡ªa year is long, but for R&D, it¡¯s nothing. How much money did Sheng Quan pour into this to achieve so much in such a short time???¡¿


    An excellent question.


    Sipping yogurt while scrolling through comments, Sheng Quan couldn¡¯t help but give #238 a like.


    The commenter was right¡ªwhile the students involved were undeniably talented, the real driving force behind the project¡¯s rapid progress was simpler:


    She¡¯d been throwing money at it. Relentlessly.


    For nearly a year, almost all the investment funds from the system had been funneled into these projects.


    The bulk went to Professor Chen Aihong, Gu Shuyue, and Ning Zhou.


    The rest was divided among smaller initiatives, leaving nothing untouched.


    How many times had she wanted to scream into the void: R&D is ridiculously expensive!!!


    Every minor breakthrough, every obstacle, every significant leap forward¡ªno matter what it meant scientifically, financially, it always translated to one thing: more money.


    You¡¯d think the initial investment was substantial, only to realize, when a major milestone loomed or a new possibility emerged, that the demand for funding could always go higher.


    All of Sheng Quan''s investments were made through personal accounts. If they had gone through the company''s books, the higher-ups would have undoubtedly thought she''d lost her mind.


    At this point, her insistence on creating her own revenue streams¡ªwithout relying on the system¡ªproved invaluable. Starlight Entertainment had long entered its profitable phase. Though the company''s cash flow was frequent, the TV dramas and films she had previously invested in continued to generate steady returns.


    Moreover, as the artists under the agency gradually gained fame, the profits they generated not only sustained the company''s operations but also freed up funds to allocate to subsidiaries.


    The revenue share from The Cultivator contributed significantly, along with ticket sales from Ten Great Immortal Palaces, allowing Sheng Quan¡ªwho had always immediately poured every cent provided by the system into various research projects¡ªto maintain a relatively comfortable financial state.


    However, after the flood relief efforts, Chairman Sheng faced an embarrassing predicament: she was broke again.


    This "broke" meant she currently had only a few hundred thousand in liquid funds left.


    Though Sheng Quan believed every penny spent was worth it, it didn¡¯t stop her¡ªafter over a year of carefree relaxation¡ªfrom feeling the itch to make money again.


    The research projects couldn¡¯t be relied on for now. While the current results were already astonishing, revealing the scientists behind them wasn¡¯t the right moment.


    The best timing would be after Stellar War hit theaters and achieved unprecedented success.


    But Stellar War wouldn¡¯t be released for at least another three months.


    And Sheng Quan¡¯s old habit resurfaced¡ªwhenever a major investment project was still ongoing, she couldn¡¯t help but want any new investment choices to be perfect, ideally with synergy between the two.


    Absentmindedly scrolling through comments, she watched as internet sleuths speculated wildly about her research expenditures, occasionally glancing at the old TV drama playing in the background.


    Whenever she was stuck on a decision, she liked to binge unfamiliar classic shows, sometimes stumbling upon inspiration.


    Of course, while doing all this, Chairman Sheng kept a plate of healthy, delicious dried fruit within reach.


    What was binge-watching without snacks? Sheng Quan wouldn¡¯t have it any other way.


    After two blissfully indulgent days of TV marathons, she noticed a shift in the online discourse.


    Previously, the chatter had been filled with comments like "6666" and "Can¡¯t wait for the movie to see if it¡¯s real." But now, the tone had changed.


    The trigger was a relatively authoritative media outlet from Country K, which delivered a review of the three high-tech products seen at the disaster relief site in a tone dripping with condescension.


    The review... well, it was technically complimentary, but something about it felt off.


    "It¡¯s clear that the R&D team spent considerable time and effort on the flashy exteriors, which explains why these hastily developed products¡ªcompleted in just a year¡ªhave garnered such public enthusiasm."


    "In this regard, China¡¯s pretty props have served their purpose. They need only stand there, doing nothing, to earn applause."


    To bolster their argument, they even interviewed a well-known research institution head from Country K.


    The expert rambled on, using seemingly measured, impartial language that superficially praised the tech while subtly¡ªor not so subtly¡ªimplying that these "globally hyped" innovations were nothing special.


    Sheng Quan had no idea how netizens from other countries reacted, but in China, public sentiment shifted almost instantly after the interview went viral.


    [Yeah, let¡¯s not get too excited. The production team already said these were just props. If we overhype them, people will think we¡¯ve never seen real tech before.]


    [Am I the only one who knows Country K already had transport mechanical dogs two years ago? They¡¯ve been in use since then. It¡¯s embarrassing how we¡¯re acting like we¡¯re groundbreaking when we¡¯re two years behind.]


    [This interview makes me so mad. I get that people want to celebrate our tech progress, but when others point out we¡¯re exaggerating, it¡¯s just humiliating.]


    A few puzzled users chimed in: [Weren¡¯t we just saying how cool it was that the movie props looked so realistic? I don¡¯t remember anyone claiming our tech was top-tier...?]


    But the flood of negative comments quickly drowned them out. One user tried reposting twice, only to be buried again, eventually giving up.


    After skimming through, Sheng Quan grasped the situation.


    She wasn¡¯t angry¡ªif anything, she found it intriguing.


    "Paid trolls have joined the fray," she mused, phone on speaker as she scrolled through the comments during her call with Gu Zhao. "Most likely because those semi-finished products stepped on someone¡¯s toes."


    Gu Zhao agreed. "I¡¯ll have it investigated immediately."


    "No need, for research-related matters, I can just ask Professor Chen. Ah, she replied¡ªit must be KIO Corporation from Country K. Tsk, they¡¯re also in the guide dog field. How sharp of them."


    If Sheng Quan hadn¡¯t worked in promotion before, she might have been angry about this situation.


    But she had.


    When public opinion shifts overwhelmingly like this, it could be genuine¡ªbut if the tide turns overnight, with a sudden flood of "netizens" repeating the same talking points in different words, there¡¯s an 80% chance someone is pulling the strings behind the scenes.


    And whoever is behind it must have a vested interest.


    Creating this kind of situation costs a lot of money. Just hiring an army of online commenters alone is a huge expense.


    Add to that the cost of bribing research institutions worldwide to echo their narrative, paying off media outlets for favorable coverage, and so on.


    "Quite the investment," mused Sheng Quan, currently in a state of financial strain. "With that kind of money, they could¡¯ve developed new products. Why waste it on sabotaging competitors?"


    Like Sheng Quan, Gu Zhao¡¯s emotions remained largely unaffected by the situation¡ªwell, almost.


    There was one change.


    As he stared at the computer screen, his light gray eyes burned with more ambition than usual.


    "You¡¯re right. This is an excellent opportunity."


    Back in school, Sheng Quan had gone through a phase of obsessively reading CEO romance novels. Back then, she hadn¡¯t realized that the true power in a company lay not with the "domineering CEO" but with the chairman of the board.


    As for why authors overwhelmingly chose to write about CEOs rather than chairmen, she figured it was because "CEO" just sounded more sophisticated.


    Those novels were always filled with high-stakes corporate battles, and young Sheng Quan would read them with exhilaration, practically clapping her hands in excitement.


    But after entering the workforce, she quickly learned that most companies don¡¯t engage in dramatic "business wars"¡ªand when they do, the tactics are far more straightforward.


    She still remembered an absurd news story from her past life:


    A company owner hired a corporate spy to sabotage a rival¡ªonly for the spy to work as a security guard who snuck in at night to unplug the competitor¡¯s power supply.


    Of course, that was an extreme case. More often, malicious competition between companies looked like this:


    Your product is better than mine? Then I¡¯ll smear you so no one thinks it¡¯s worth buying.


    This was the essence of a PR war.


    Crude? Yes. Effective? Absolutely. Some companies had even gone bankrupt due to such smear campaigns.


    From the news she¡¯d gathered, KIO Corporation had a history of this. In Country K, similar tech companies had emerged before¡ªonly to be hit with scandals within two years and ultimately acquired by KIO.


    "They¡¯ve gotten addicted to the taste of victory in PR wars. Now they¡¯re even crossing borders to come after us."


    After skimming through the reports, Sheng Quan had a rough understanding of KIO¡¯s playbook.


    KIO likely didn¡¯t see those half-finished mechanical dogs as a real threat. What they coveted was their sudden fame.


    After all, these mechanical dogs had debuted during the Lu City flood in China, capturing national attention. Then they went viral internationally.


    KIO happened to be launching a new product¡ªand their first promotional strategy seemed to be:


    Step on China¡¯s mechanical dogs to climb up, steal their spotlight, and boost their own brand.


    Gu Zhao remarked, "They¡¯re experts at hype. Though not the largest in scale, they¡¯ve built quite a reputation internationally."


    Sheng Quan asked, "Do you envy their fame?"


    Gu Zhao answered honestly, "Absolutely."


    Sheng Quan grinned. "Then let¡¯s savor that envy for now. Soon, their fame will be ours."


    "What I don¡¯t get is¡ªbefore launching this PR war, didn¡¯t they bother to check what industry I¡¯m in?"


    Chairwoman Sheng popped a dried fruit into her mouth, unable to suppress her amused smile:


    "Starlight Entertainment is an entertainment company, after all."


    As expected, the international narrative soon shifted.


    The once-trending Chinese mechanical dogs were quickly dismissed by experts worldwide as "technologically immature."


    This wasn¡¯t entirely unreasonable¡ªafter all, these mechanical dogs were originally developed as movie props, and the team behind them was reportedly made up of college students. Given that, their performance was impressive.


    The criticism was carefully framed:


    As props, they¡¯re fine. But the hype around them is way overblown.


    They didn¡¯t outright trash the mechanical dogs from Interstellar Wars. Instead, they focused on how they were "only suitable as props," contrasting them with the exaggerated public praise.


    Once the reputation was sufficiently tarnished, it was time to introduce KIO¡¯s new guide robot dogs.


    The script went something like this:


    The Chinese mechanical dogs you were so excited about? They¡¯re underwhelming. But don¡¯t worry¡ªKIO¡¯s guide robot dogs are here. They can guide the visually impaired, serve as robotic pets, and outperform even your wildest expectations.


    Moreover, it passed the internationally renowned scientific research institution''s [Robot Design] test, scoring a high 4.2 out of six levels for the Kio guide robot.


    This research institution is highly authoritative, with every test conducted openly and impartially. The testing process is rigorous, and each piece of data is repeatedly cross-checked. Their testing fees are steep, but this also means they cannot be bribed.


    If any tested scientific achievement were to later prove flawed, this nearly century-old institution¡ªwith its immense international reputation¡ªwould collapse overnight.


    Thus, they would never falsify results. Out of caution, their scoring is also extremely meticulous, with 98% based on test data and only 2% human input.


    In the field of robotics, 3.5 is a passing score, making 4.2 an outstanding achievement.


    The previous high score was 4.1.


    This proves that Kio¡¯s guide robot dog is undeniably top-tier on a global scale.


    Everything was going smoothly.


    After investing heavily in marketing, Kio successfully stripped the fame from China¡¯s robotic guide dog and used that massive recognition as a foundation to aggressively promote their own product.


    Kio¡¯s guide robot dog¡¯s reputation snowballed, and after securing the 4.2 test score, it became world-renowned.


    Then, Sheng Quan, who had remained silent all this time, finally made a move.


    Sheng Quan: "The movie prop has finally been turned into a real product. You all guessed right¡ªit¡¯s a robotic guide dog. Took it for a test when I had time. Scored 5.3."


    [Attached: Scoring sheet] [Attached: Sleek robotic dog photo]


    The moment this Weibo post went live, artists under Starlight Entertainment sprang into action.


    Yan Hui, a strong contender for this year¡¯s awards, reposted it.


    Lin Aike, the lead actress of a currently trending drama, reposted it.


    Hua Qing, an award-winning actress with a devoted fanbase, reposted it.


    Jin Jiu, a massively popular singer fresh off a sold-out concert, reposted it.


    Jiang Zhen, an international sensation who rose to fame overnight with countless foreign fans, reposted it.


    Xu Man, the director of The Cultivator, who became an overnight A-list director with investors lining up, reposted it.


    Every single artist under Starlight Entertainment, regardless of fame, reposted it.


    In today¡¯s entertainment industry, who wouldn¡¯t give Sheng Quan face?


    Soon, rising starlets reposted it. Veteran actors reposted it. Established screenwriters and directors reposted it.


    An entertainment company CEO reposted it, and soon, every artist under that company¡ªbig or small¡ªfollowed suit.


    Sheng Quan didn¡¯t just post on Weibo. International netizens have their own platforms, and as a 10G-speed internet surfer, she naturally had accounts there too.


    Let¡¯s not forget the Starlight Banquet.


    That event didn¡¯t just expand Sheng Quan¡¯s network¡ªit made countless others eager to join it. Forget her staggering wealth, which commands respect in any country; this year¡¯s banquet alone had people clamoring for invitations.


    At a time like this, where a simple repost could earn them visibility, no one saw it as a hassle.


    On international platforms:


    A famous actor from Country A reposted.


    An internationally celebrated singer reposted.


    A top-tier actress from Country C reposted.


    A currently trending boy band from Country B reposted.


    Kio¡¯s executives were fuming but could only watch helplessly as celebrities, one after another, shared the post.


    There were too many¡ªfar too many.


    As these stars reposted, fans worldwide saw the news.


    ¡ªBoom!


    The excitement was instantaneous.


    In the past, they might not have cared about robotic guide dogs, but thanks to Kio¡¯s relentless marketing, even the disinterested had grown curious.


    Their first thought: If 4.2 was already hailed as a miracle by experts worldwide... then 5.3 must be mind-blowing!


    China has this kind of tech?! We have to see this!


    In no time at all, Kio¡¯s prospective buyers defected en masse to China¡¯s "movie prop."


    Kio descended into chaos¡ªbut there was nothing they could do.


    The roles had reversed. The usurper had become the usurped.


    Three months of relentless effort to build momentum and steal fame from China¡¯s robotic guide dog...


    All undone.


    In just seven hours.


    And repaid a hundred¡ªno, a thousand¡ªfold.

 Chapter 75

    Kio was genuinely dumbfounded by this blow.


    They had certainly considered that Sheng Quan might also leverage public opinion, but on one hand, Starlight Entertainment had only been around for two years, and on the other, Sheng Quan''s investments in those research projects had barely spanned a year. How could they possibly have achieved results surpassing Kio''s?


    Though Kio excelled at waging PR battles, they did have real expertise.


    The guide robotic dog project had taken nearly four years of development, backed by solid technology¡ªso of course they were brimming with confidence.


    Sheng Quan, an entertainment industry player, and a project meant for movie props at that¡ªwhat groundbreaking results could they possibly produce?


    And then, they were slapped hard in the face.


    The hype did surge, but the massive wave of customers flooded straight to China instead.


    A 5.3 rating? Just one year? How the hell did China''s robotic guide dog pull that off?!


    Even if Gu Shuyue was a genius, so what?! With such a small team and such little time, how could they have done it?!


    Even if Kio''s own R&D team had been given the same constraints, they wouldn¡¯t have been able to deliver.


    They immediately rushed to the research testing agency involved¡ªand there, they saw a small line of text written clearly at the top of the test report:


    Total project investment: 500 million CNY.


    Five. Hundred. Million.


    Kio¡¯s management: "..."


    Invested in a student team.


    Five hundred million. In one year.


    Five hundred million! FIVE HUNDRED MILLION!!!


    The words echoed relentlessly in their minds.


    The management team thought Sheng Quan had lost her mind.


    Research projects were indeed expensive, but those were usually massive undertakings.


    A small student team? She dumped five hundred million into it¡ªin just one year. They hadn¡¯t even spent that much in four years of research.


    She didn¡¯t play by the rules. This wasn¡¯t logical.


    While the management was spiraling, the researchers at Kio¡¯s affiliated institute had a different reaction.


    "Five hundred million in a year... How enviable. No wonder they got results so fast."


    Just look at the interview with that young Chinese college student:


    "Originally, it was 30 million, but the costs kept piling up, and soon, 30 million wasn¡¯t enough. I was terrified the project would shut down prematurely because we ran out of funds."


    "But then Chairman Sheng told me to keep going¡ªwhatever the project needed, she¡¯d fund it."


    "I can¡¯t go into details, but we tried over and over. Every attempt meant huge sums of money going down the drain, yet Chairman Sheng always said it was fine."


    "She admitted she didn¡¯t understand research, so the only thing she could do was provide financial support."


    Kio¡¯s researchers: ...A patron like this actually exists in the world?


    Their company, meanwhile, squeezed them to make one yuan produce a thousand yuan¡¯s worth of results. Success earned them a meager bonus; failure earned them reprimands.


    And now, with China¡¯s 5.3-rated guide robotic dog making waves, the first ones under pressure were them.


    "They¡¯re saying the company invested so much time and effort, yet our results can¡¯t even compare to what Chinese students achieved in a year¡ªwith five hundred million backing them."


    "Damn right. Give me five hundred million, and I¡¯d work myself to the bone delivering not just guide dogs but transport bots too."


    "Good grief, Chairman Sheng even raised their salaries every time they made progress."


    K-country had always had some reputation in tech products, and until now, Kio¡¯s researchers had never even considered jumping ship¡ªeven if they found the company overly harsh.


    After all, this was just how things were in K-country. Everyone was used to it.


    But nothing highlights disparity like comparison.


    Now, seeing how Sheng Quan treated those Chinese students, some of them genuinely started thinking about defecting to China¡ªto work under Chairman Sheng.


    If she treated students that well, surely experienced professionals like them would be valued even more, right?


    As it turned out, people everywhere thought the same.


    Inquiries poured in from all over the country, reaching a point where three or more calls came in every second. Thankfully, Sheng Quan had prepared in advance, hiring and training a team of customer service reps.


    To handle the production and sales of the guide robotic dogs¡ªand future "movie props"¡ªshe founded a small tech company called "Stargaze."


    "An Baixing joked that, give or take, ''Stargaze'' means ''I¡¯m looking at An Baixing.''"


    With the film wrapped, Yu Xiangwan returned to the company. As one of the deputy directors, his responsibilities went beyond production supervision. Like Gu Zhao, Yu Xiangwan¡ªa latecomer to the industry¡ªhad to carve out time for professional courses.


    But he was a quick learner. In the original "Starlight" novel, after becoming an "unconventional enforcer," he rapidly mastered all sorts of "gray-area tactics" to handle various tasks for the boss who treated him as a weapon.


    Now, he could also sign himself up for three classes, not wasting a single moment of study time, actively handling various tasks for Sheng Quan, and accompanying her whenever she wanted to do something she enjoyed.


    For example, gossiping about An Baixing together at this very moment.


    "Hahahaha, how does he always find such amusing points? I think his workload must be too light¡ªMinister Yuan should probably assign him more tasks."


    "''Watching stars'' is a pun on ''watching the industry''¡ªa trending online joke, but it also brings good luck."


    Sheng ?????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????Quan was indeed amused, her eyes curving into crescents as she reached for her phone. Yu Xiangwan, who had been sitting across from her with a faint smile, gently placed the phone by her hand when she straightened up and fumbled around without finding it.


    Sheng Quan, touching the phone: "Huh? How did I find it so easily? Didn¡¯t I deliberately put it far away just now?"


    Only then did realization dawn on Yu Xiangwan¡¯s fair face. His slender fingers quickly picked up the phone and moved it farther away, his usually magnetic and gentle voice tinged with a rare hint of guilt:


    "My apologies, I forgot you were testing."


    It was almost instinctive¡ªthe moment he saw Sheng Quan needed help, he acted without even thinking.


    "It¡¯s fine. You shouldn¡¯t push yourself too hard in general. Make sure to rest properly¡ªI¡¯ve heard lack of sleep affects memory," Sheng Quan said casually, continuing to feign searching with her hands.


    "Woof¡ª" A soft dog-like sound came from beside her. The mechanical dog, which had been obediently "sitting" to Sheng Quan¡¯s left, stood up and gently swayed its head, slowly pushing the phone back toward her hand.


    Sheng Quan felt the phone, removed the black cloth covering her eyes, and couldn¡¯t resist rubbing the mechanical dog¡¯s head. "So well-behaved, such a good boy."


    Its 5.3-star rating was well-deserved. Despite being a mechanical dog, it seemed almost like a real, intuitive canine¡ªcapable of "reading the room" and fetching items for its owner without needing commands.


    "Woo..." The large dog, having been petted and praised, let out another soft whimper, nuzzling Sheng Quan¡¯s calf with a gentleness that contrasted with its sturdy metal frame.


    Who could resist a big, affectionate mechanical dog?


    Certainly not Sheng Quan.


    Her adoration was unmistakable as she hugged the dog¡¯s head, showering it with praise. "So good, so good! Here, have some bread¡ªI spent a lot of time making it myself."


    "Woo..."


    "Oh... I forgot you can¡¯t eat. So adorable¡ªhow can something without fur, with just a mechanical body, be this cute?"


    "If you like it, why not keep it by your side?" Yu Xiangwan suggested while taking a bite of the bread from Sheng Quan¡¯s hand. "This batch tastes even better than the last one," he praised.


    Sheng Quan: "You said the same thing last time."


    In her past life as an overworked employee, she¡¯d lived on takeout¡ªlet alone cooking, even taking medicine that required stirring was a chore because it meant washing the cup afterward.


    But now, when in a good mood, Chairwoman Sheng would occasionally cook, leisurely spending an afternoon experimenting with online recipes¡ªthough sometimes, things went awry.


    For instance, at this moment, Sheng Quan took another bite of bread and winced.


    "It¡¯s a bit hard. How did I not notice when slicing it?"


    "Not at all. I think it¡¯s just right."


    As they spoke, Gu Zhao, dressed in a sharp suit, walked in holding a coffee cup.


    "Ah, Gu Zhao! Perfect timing. I brought the guide mechanical dog that¡¯s about to launch¡ªwant to test it? It¡¯s incredibly smart. Gu Shuyue and her team are truly amazing."


    Yu Xiangwan nodded at Gu Zhao. "President Gu."


    Gu Zhao returned the gesture politely. "Vice President Yu."


    After exchanging greetings, Yu Xiangwan pulled the plate of bread toward himself and softly asked Sheng Quan, "These suit my taste quite well. May I take them back with me?"


    "Of course! If you like them, go ahead."


    Sheng Quan was happy they wouldn¡¯t go to waste.


    Gu Zhao glanced at the bread Yu Xiangwan was packing up and sat to Sheng Quan¡¯s left. "Could I have a slice?"


    After a pause, he added, "I haven¡¯t had lunch yet."


    Yu Xiangwan, who had been pleased a moment earlier, froze mid-motion. "...Of course."


    His movements slowed noticeably as he reluctantly handed over a slice.


    Gu Zhao accepted it. "Thank you."


    Sheng Quan warned him, "That bread¡¯s overbaked. Vice President Yu likes it hard, but you don¡¯t¡ªcareful not to chip a tooth."


    Gu Zhao: "I can learn to like it."


    He took a bite, expression unchanging.


    Sheng Quan: "Teeth okay?"


    Gu Zhao lowered his lashes, chewing once, twice... by the twentieth chew, he swallowed and replied calmly:


    "Yes."


    Then, without flinching, he took another bite. And another. And another.


    Sheng Quan: "..."


    ¡ªHow does he manage to eat bread with the same intensity as tackling a work project?


    The place they were currently in was the company''s executive lounge, exclusively reserved for management. Naturally, it was lavishly furnished, complete with a massive floor-to-ceiling window and a few beanbag chairs by the windowsill.


    The blue one had practically become Sheng Quan¡¯s designated daydreaming spot because she loved lounging there to gaze at the scenery.


    After eating and drinking her fill, Sheng Quan curled up on the beanbag again and got down to business with the two of them:


    "The guide robotic dog has made a name for itself, but there¡¯s still a major issue¡ªproduction takes too much time. The demand is overwhelming, and we can barely keep up with the orders."


    "Also, Stellar Wars is set to premiere next week. Once it hits the screens, the rest of our tech products are expected to gain massive popularity. We need to strike while the iron is hot¡ªthis is money we absolutely have to make."


    Only a fool would pass up easy money, and Sheng Quan was in dire need of it.


    Besides, if they could solidify their position in one go, this Chinese-made guide robotic dog would stand unshakable in the market.


    Gu Zhao agreed with this point: "Production time isn¡¯t the main issue. Pre-orders are standard for products like these. The real problem lies in the production lines."


    It was obvious to everyone that Kio Company had hyped the guide robotic dog into a massive trend, and this was the golden moment to cash in.


    But the problem was¡ªSheng Quan lacked production lines, factories, and skilled technicians. She was desperately short on all fronts.


    Even though she had started recruiting early, while other industries might manage, a tech company like hers couldn¡¯t magically assemble a fully operational, professional production chain overnight.


    The current situation was painfully awkward: customers were lining up in droves, but their supply couldn¡¯t meet the demand.


    "I¡¯ve gathered some data on established production lines, both domestic and international. You can take a look," Yu Xiangwan said, pulling out her phone. "It¡¯s not complete yet, so I only have a portion ready. I¡¯ve already sent it to your email¡ªyou can skim through it first."


    Sheng Quan nodded, her expression not showing much concern.


    Gu Shuyue had also skyrocketed to fame, her career progress bar jumping to 32%. That might seem low, but¡ªher field was scientific research.


    Based on Sheng Quan¡¯s observations over the past year, the career progress of researchers was the slowest and most incremental among all the professions she had encountered. Professor Chen Aihong had started with built-in progress, but Gu Shuyue was already the fastest-growing researcher in her roster.


    As for Ning Zhou... there was still no movement from him.


    He was buried in his research, practically living in the lab. If not for his two senior colleagues keeping an eye on him, this genius¡ªwho lost all sense of time and hunger once immersed in his work¡ªmight have starved himself to death.


    No wonder he had succeeded in the original story. With his sky-high IQ, natural genius, and an almost superhuman level of focus, who else could have achieved what he did?


    As long as Sheng Quan stopped him from self-destructing, things would be fine.


    In any case, the career progress Gu Shuyue had brought her was enough for a lottery draw.


    Sheng Quan planned to try her luck that very night. If fortune favored her, she might just land a complete production line.


    "I¡¯ll review the materials tonight and try to finalize things as soon as possible."


    ¡ªOr at least see if she could draw one from the lottery.


    If she managed to get a moderately renowned one, all their problems would be solved.


    Stellar Wars premiered.


    Thanks to its investments in university research, disaster relief, and the guide robotic dog, the film exploded in popularity on its opening day without needing much promotion.


    The more Stellar Wars dominated the box office, the colder the new general manager of Kio felt inside.


    Yes, new.


    Due to the disastrous miscalculation regarding the guide robotic dog, the company had suffered massive losses. Rumor had it that even the chairman¡¯s funding chain had been affected. Under immense pressure, the former general manager had resigned to take responsibility.


    The one hastily promoted wasn¡¯t the deputy general manager, nor the chairman¡¯s brother-in-law, but this new manager with no connections.


    Under normal circumstances, he would have been overjoyed at the promotion. But now? This was clearly a setup for taking the fall.


    Though his heart was ice-cold, in K-country¡¯s cutthroat corporate world, he didn¡¯t dare resign.


    Fortunately, he was an optimist. Despite seeing this as a mess, he rolled up his sleeves after taking the position, brainstorming with his team to salvage the company¡¯s losses.


    After thorough investigation, this optimistic general manager finally discovered a critical weakness in "Stellar Vision."


    "Their production lines are too small, and they don¡¯t have enough skilled technicians."


    The new general manager believed he had found Kio¡¯s lifeline:


    "Stellar Vision is undoubtedly booming right now, but it¡¯s too booming. Just looking at their setup, it¡¯s obvious they can¡¯t meet the massive demand."


    "But Kio is different. We¡¯re an established, reputable tech company with deep roots and loyal customers. Most importantly, we have five fully operational production lines ready for rapid manufacturing."


    The more he spoke to his subordinates, the more excited he grew. "Stellar Vision is just a startup¡ªthey don¡¯t have these kinds of resources. This is our opportunity."


    He concluded:


    "Unless Starlight Entertainment can find mature production lines in a short time, our Kio will inevitably surpass them."


    So, can Starlight Entertainment secure mature production lines?


    Absolutely not. Production lines aren¡¯t something you can just buy off the shelf. Take their company¡¯s five production lines, for example¡ªunless the company is on the brink of collapse, there¡¯s no way they¡¯d sell even one.


    If Sheng Quan wanted production lines, there was only one possibility: acquiring a company that already had them.


    But the cost of acquiring such a company would be enough to build how many new production lines? Who would even do that?


    In any case, he believed the chances were practically zero. Besides, acquiring a company with production lines required a massive sum of money¡ªnot something just anyone could pull off.


    After this optimistic analysis, the ever-cheerful general manager once again felt hopeful about the future.


    "Starlight Entertainment is still one step behind. They¡¯re missing this golden opportunity."


    Then, he was notified of a change in Kio¡¯s equity. After continuous turbulence and the major shareholders¡¯ financial chains collapsing, the once-prominent company finally couldn¡¯t hold on any longer.


    Kio announced a change in ownership.


    They welcomed their new leader.


    ¡ªSheng Quan.


    The new general manager: "..."


    Well, at least he was an optimistic man.


    When Sheng Quan arrived at Kio, she found the general manager to be quite competent¡ªthough he seemed a little... overly enthusiastic.


    While briefing her on the company¡¯s situation, he couldn¡¯t help but excitedly envision the future:


    "Chairman Sheng, rest assured. Our Starlight Entertainment has five mature, specialized production lines. There won¡¯t be any issues with manufacturing."


    "We¡¯ll definitely seize this golden opportunity!"

 Chapter 76

    The production line issues for the guide robotic dogs have been resolved.


    However, demand still far outstrips supply.


    All because Star Wars has become a massive hit.


    Even Sheng Quan hadn¡¯t anticipated such explosive popularity on the very first day.


    As a rare sci-fi film in China, the audience turnout for Star Wars on its premiere day was downright unbelievable.


    Why unbelievable? Because viewers spanned every age group¡ªmen, women, the young, and the elderly.


    Cinema staff watched as an elderly woman, leaning on a cane and supported by a younger companion, made her way inside. One employee couldn¡¯t help but whisper to a coworker:


    "In the year I¡¯ve worked here, I¡¯ve never seen as many elderly moviegoers as I have today."


    Movie theaters are usually among the least likely places to spot seniors, especially for large-format, high-tech films like this.


    Fortunately, while elderly audiences are uncommon, China¡¯s theaters have adapted well to the global entertainment era. Though there are restrictions for older patrons (e.g., those with heart conditions can¡¯t buy tickets for intense films like horror), as long as they¡¯re in good health and sign a safety waiver, they¡¯re free to enjoy the show.


    Still, even with these accommodations, few seniors typically choose the cinema over TV or the internet. If they rarely attend regular films, why would they show up for a sci-fi blockbuster?


    "It¡¯s because of the crew¡¯s flood relief efforts earlier," explained a colleague whose own grandmother was among the audience. "After seeing the news, my grandma kept saying Sheng Quan is such a good person¡ªthat she had to support her movie. She even gave us money to buy tickets."


    "One of her friends, an old man, bought his own ticket to watch it. She was so jealous!"


    The staff member was stunned. Without elderly relatives of her own, she¡¯d only seen young netizens raving about the film online. She had no idea Sheng Quan had such a sterling reputation among older generations.


    "My parents don¡¯t even follow entertainment news, but they know who Sheng Quan is. They even know her company owns the Luosifen brand," the colleague added.


    "One night, I was eating instant Luosifen, and my mom came out, first scolding me for the smell¡ªthen suddenly saying, ¡®Next time, buy Xiangxiang Luo. Support a business with a conscience.¡¯ I was shocked!"


    Her coworker nodded. "But Xiangxiang Luo is legit delicious. Affordable, too. I only bought a pack because my grandma wanted to support Sheng Quan, but it blew me away!"


    "And my stomach¡¯s super sensitive, but Xiangxiang Luo doesn¡¯t bother me at all."


    "Wow! I¡¯m buying some tonight!"


    The two were quite the pair¡ªone mildly allergic to chemical-heavy cosmetics (even a dab would make her skin flush), the other with a delicate stomach that reacted instantly to unclean food.


    Most people would find these quirks annoying, but together, they were a dream team: one tested new beauty products, the other screened takeout and instant meals. Pure bliss.


    "Guess the rumors are true¡ªSheng Quan only bought Xiangxiang Luo because she loves eating it herself. Even better if the boss eats it; you know the quality¡¯s guaranteed."


    While they chatted, two more elderly patrons entered the theater.


    The staff couldn¡¯t help but worry: "It¡¯s a sci-fi film, with massive screens and booming sound effects. Could it be too much for them?"


    Though seniors had to sign waivers (absolving the theater of liability), no one wanted an actual emergency.


    Neither had seen the movie yet, but they knew the gist: set in a future where humanity has mastered space-time, scientists predict a cataclysmic explosion threatening most of the universe. The only solution? Traveling back 3,000 years via parallel timelines to alter events and create a temporal entanglement that saves their world.


    One faction risks the mission; another opposes it, fearing accelerated doom. The premise sounded wild, yet the film somehow made it work.


    But space battles, explosions, time jumps¡ªwas this really for grandma and grandpa?


    Thankfully, when the credits rolled, the audience emerged unscathed.


    Well... mostly.


    "I want to watch it again. Isn¡¯t it just buy a ticket and go in? Why can¡¯t I?"


    The speaker was a man in his sixties, silver-haired but cane-free¡ªclearly healthy enough for the cinema.


    At this moment, his eyes were slightly red, clearly having just cried in the cinema, yet his emotions carried a hint of excitement. As he spoke, he pulled out cash¡ªa rare sight in modern times¡ªand handed it to the staff with slightly trembling hands:


    "I have money. I brought money."


    The staff member was both amused and exasperated, patiently explaining:


    "Grandpa, there¡¯s a limited number of tickets each day. It¡¯s not that I don¡¯t want to help you buy one, but all tickets for Interstellar War are sold out today. You can¡¯t get any."


    "Sold out already?" The old man was disappointed but didn¡¯t take back his money. Instead, he quickly shifted his goal: "Can I buy tickets for tomorrow?"


    The staff checked: "Tomorrow¡¯s sold out too, but there are seats available the day after at 10:30 AM. The seats aren¡¯t great, though¡ªthey¡¯re way in the back. Would that be okay?"


    "Yes, yes, please get them for me."


    Though he couldn¡¯t watch it today, the old man was satisfied. After a moment¡¯s thought, he added, "Can I buy two? I¡¯d like my wife to come too."


    In the end, he happily purchased two tickets. As he turned to leave, he noticed another elderly man approaching and kindly informed him:


    "You want to buy tickets, right? Today¡¯s are gone. Only the day after is available."


    "The day after? Then the day after it is." The newcomer quickly accepted the situation and shuffled unsteadily toward the staff.


    "I¡¯d like to buy tickets. How many are left? I want my friends to come too."


    On its first day of release, Interstellar War had already drawn crowds eager for a second viewing. The comments section was flooded with reactions like:


    [Mind-blowing!]


    [Wow, I¡¯ve seen so many foreign sci-fi films and had low expectations for Chinese sci-fi, but I came because of Jiang Zhen. I never expected it to be this good¡ªso futuristic yet so real. I was completely immersed!]


    [Ahhhhhhh scientists go go go!! I want to step into the future world ahhhhhh!]


    [The special effects are insane!!!!! When the sky filled with spaceships rushed to rescue Gu Li on the planet¡ªahhhh, I was shaking with excitement!!]


    [Gu Li never expected 3,000-year-old China to acknowledge him, nor did he think the people of the present timeline would sacrifice everything to prevent the catastrophe three millennia later. That was the moment he understood what it truly meant to carry pure Chinese bloodline. Who else gets this feeling? Who else??]


    [Oh my god oh my god oh my god, I can¡¯t even form words except ¡®oh my god.¡¯ The time and space plotline is just next-level!!]


    [Just one question: do we actually have mechanical war dogs now? Has the Strategic Deception Bureau been lying to us this whole time?! We DO have war dogs, right??!]


    [The timeline is set 50 years in the future. I really hope we achieve that level of tech by then¡ªfull-dive VR games! Robot butlers! I can¡¯t wait!]


    Most of these comments were from young people. Elderly viewers, who rarely frequented forums, expressed their enthusiasm by word of mouth in real life.


    He Ai, a colleague at the cinema, scrolled through the comments and found almost no posts from older viewers.


    Her surname was rare, but her daily life was ordinary. As cinema staff, they got free movie tickets.


    Yet despite Interstellar War¡¯s massive popularity, she hadn¡¯t watched it once.


    At first, it was simply disinterest in sci-fi. But after seeing so many elderly patrons flock to the film¡ªmany of them eager for repeat viewings¡ªshe had a bold idea.


    He Ai was very close to her grandmother. She still remembered her childhood, when Grandma He carried her along the village paths. To little He Ai, her grandmother¡ªwho could weave grass grasshoppers and always brought back her favorite treats¡ªseemed practically omnipotent.


    So when she realized elderly audiences loved the film just as much as younger ones, He Ai wanted to watch it with her grandmother.


    Grandma He was surprised by the invitation. But since she¡¯d been following flood relief news and admired the young philanthropist Sheng Quan, she didn¡¯t outright refuse. Hesitantly, she asked:


    "Would I even understand this kind of movie?"


    The last film she remembered watching was one screened in the village decades ago¡ªblack-and-white, no subtitles. Back then, young Grandma He had loved it, watching intently.


    But that was in her youth. Now, she was old.


    "Of course you can! Your heart¡¯s fine, and your eyes and ears still work well."


    He Ai kept coaxing her: "I thought older folks wouldn¡¯t like sci-fi, but so many do!"


    "Even Grandma Si¡ªyou know, the one who always chats with you¡ªshe¡¯s seen it."


    That made Grandma He hesitate further. Finally, she nodded in agreement.


    Mostly because, well, Grandma Si had already watched it.


    If she didn¡¯t, she¡¯d feel left behind.


    "Then let''s give it a watch. If it''s not good, I''ll just take a nap¡ªconsider it my way of supporting that young lady Sheng Quan."


    In the end, there was no napping.


    The moment the film began, its dazzlingly realistic special effects captivated the entire audience.


    Planets exploded one after another, breathtaking and magnificent. On the giant screen, it even felt like the meteorites were crashing toward them, immersing everyone in the spectacle.


    At first, Grandma He couldn¡¯t help but flinch away from the "falling meteorites."


    As the movie progressed, her expression grew more and more engrossed, her eyes shining brighter.


    ¡ª"Do you know why I¡¯m the one here? Because in the future, only a handful of people retain pure Blue Planet Huaxia lineage. Most prefer to mix in some strange bloodlines or install mechanical hearts¡ªbasically, they¡¯re all trying to make themselves less human."


    ¡ª"Pure humans like me are always seen as weak. Who would¡¯ve thought that in the end, it would be us ''weak'' pure humans who¡¯d save the world?"


    ¡ª"You¡¯ve verified your identity. Even though you¡¯re a citizen from three thousand years in the future, Huaxia will still protect you."


    ¡ª"I¡¯ll protect you, just like you protected Blue Planet."


    ¡ª"But your current technology is nowhere near what¡¯s needed. You can¡¯t breathe in space, you don¡¯t have mechanical hearts, and you¡¯re so fragile. I honestly can¡¯t imagine what you could do."


    ¡ª"We can give everything we have."


    When Gu Li reconciled with his "weak" human identity and said, "I thought this would be a backward era, but I forgot¡ªour future evolved from this very moment," He Ai couldn¡¯t even put her emotions into words.


    Gu Li had always despised technology because, in a world dominated by it, pure humans like him were left behind.


    But the determination of a nation three thousand years in the past¡ªstill developing its technology¡ªchanged his perspective.


    ¡ª"Technological advancement exists to serve humanity. That¡¯s why it was created."


    ¡ª"Do you know fishing? The moment a fish bites, the angler uses their strength and wits to fight it. They might win or lose, but no matter the outcome, the thrill and joy of that moment never fade."


    ¡ª"Technology can change everything. And all it needs is time. We¡¯ll fight for that time."


    In the end, Gu Li couldn¡¯t survive unscathed due to his fragile human body¡ªbut he had come to accept technology.


    ¡ª"Don¡¯t apologize that I can only stand in the holographic world. I¡¯m grateful, because you¡¯ve created an entire world for me."


    The film was a collision of technology and reality. Though just a movie, it felt so genuine it might as well have happened.


    When the final shot pulled back, revealing Gu Li¡ªonce confined to a hospital bed¡ªnow sitting peacefully in the holographic world, fishing, He Ai laughed and cried at the same time.


    As the credits rolled and the lights came on, she wiped her tears and glanced at her grandmother.


    Grandma He¡¯s eyes were also red-rimmed. She seemed reluctant to leave until He Ai promised a second viewing, finally letting her granddaughter carry her out.


    Outside, ?????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????Grandma He settled back into her wheelchair, still dazed but with a sparkle in her eyes.


    "Ai¡¯ai, do you think that holographic tech will be real in a couple of years?"


    He Ai didn¡¯t know, but she answered with absolute certainty:


    "Of course, Grandma. Did you see the robotic dog in the movie? Sheng Quan¡¯s company developed one just like it in real life¡ªit¡¯s so lifelike, it¡¯s amazing."


    "In a few years, holographics might be here too. I¡¯ll get you a pod, and you can adjust your age to twenty."


    "Hahaha! If I could adjust, I¡¯d set it to eighteen!"


    "Eighteen works too."


    "Who was that Gu Li guy? Such a fine young man."


    "That¡¯s Jiang Zhen, an actor signed under Sheng Quan¡¯s company."


    Pushing her grandmother¡¯s wheelchair, He Ai spotted a familiar elderly man ahead, also wheeling an older woman who couldn¡¯t walk.


    Their conversation sounded much like the one she and Grandma He had just had.


    After the movie, Grandma He¡¯s mood stayed bright, especially after He Ai promised a rewatch.


    She even ventured onto an online forum for the first time, guided by her granddaughter.


    First, she learned to post a simple ¡¾Thumbs up!¡¿.


    Then, scrolling through a flood of ¡¾xxx yyds!¡¿ comments, Grandma He studied carefully before confidently typing out her own:


    ¡¾Jiang Zhen yyds!¡¿

 Chapter 77

    After finishing her practice, Grandma He continued posting online: ¡¾Sheng Quan yyds¡¿.


    Sheng Quan, who was browsing the forum at the time, saw this post, but she would never have guessed that it was written by an elderly woman who usually relied on a wheelchair to get around.


    She was happily rewatching her favorite scenes and checking out various expert fan edits.


    Lin Aike, who had no recent work commitments, finally had some free time to relax. After seeing Sheng Quan¡¯s social media post, she replied: ¡¾I want to watch it too! I¡¯ve been so busy I haven¡¯t had the chance yet¡¿.


    Sheng Quan responded: ¡¾Come to my place, we¡¯ll watch it together¡¿.


    As a devoted film enthusiast, the first thing Sheng Quan did after moving was set up a private home theater.


    While it wasn¡¯t extravagantly large, the viewing experience was top-notch. Since it was officially certified, she could pre-order new releases, and the film¡¯s hard drive would be delivered straight to her doorstep.


    No need to leave home¡ªjust sit back and enjoy blockbusters to her heart¡¯s content. Absolutely amazing.


    Sheng Quan¡¯s favorite pastime was curling up in her private theater and binge-watching classic films. As someone who had transmigrated into this world, she hadn¡¯t experienced many of its iconic movies, TV shows, or novels. It felt like a hamster stumbling into a treasure trove of snacks¡ªpure bliss.


    This time, with Star Wars, she indulged in multiple viewings at home.


    First, she watched the MAX version, then the 3D version, followed by the 4D version.


    Basically, she enjoyed it from every possible angle, over and over again.


    But happiness is best shared. After treating herself, she naturally invited friends to join the fun.


    Since the airing of The Path of Life, Lin Aike¡¯s career had been on the rise. Ambitious and driven, she had capitalized on her momentum after joining Starlight Entertainment, packing her schedule full for nearly every month of the year.


    Occasional gatherings were limited to filming breaks, where the cast and crew would squeeze in meals or spa sessions.


    This was the first time Lin Aike had visited Sheng Quan¡¯s new home.


    Compared to Starlight Manor, Sheng Quan¡¯s place wasn¡¯t enormous, but for a high-end apartment in a city where even tiny homes cost a fortune, it was still impressive¡ªespecially since it was a sprawling villa with front and back gardens.


    ¡°It¡¯s starting to feel a bit cramped,¡± Sheng Quan admitted as she led Lin Aike downstairs to the theater, chatting along the way. ¡°I might move again soon.¡±


    It might sound like a humblebrag, but the villa really was getting crowded.


    After all, she wasn¡¯t the only one living there.


    With a place this big¡ªgardens to maintain, two cleaning staff, a live-in chef, six bodyguards, plus Brother Jiang, and occasionally her secretary and assistants staying over¡ªthe headcount easily reached double digits.


    It had been manageable before, but with more security personnel, space was becoming an issue.


    That said, reducing her security detail was out of the question. As her assets grew both domestically and internationally, she frequently traveled for business¡ªlike her recent trip to K-country for the Kio acquisition.


    Being outside her home country always made her uneasy, especially since there had been conflicts before the deal. While such tensions weren¡¯t uncommon in business¡ªwinner takes all¡ªyou never knew when someone might act recklessly.


    And even without the Kio situation, flaunting wealth in a foreign country always carried risks.


    Drawing from her past life¡¯s corporate battles and bizarre encounters, Sheng Quan lived by one rule: never bet on ¡°impossible.¡±


    In this world, anything could happen.


    Case in point¡ªshe had transmigrated into a novel, hadn¡¯t she?


    With Brother Jiang by her side 24/7, she had managed the K-country trip without incident. But upon returning, she decided her security team could use a few more members.


    As the saying went, all fear stemmed from insufficient firepower. Surrounding herself with an army of tall, capable bodyguards ensured not even a mosquito could get close.


    ¡°But isn¡¯t it hard to find a suitable place? I haven¡¯t heard about any new luxury properties on the market,¡± Lin Aike remarked.


    Despite her hectic schedule, she never missed out on internet gossip¡ªtruly a master of balancing work and play.


    Sheng Quan nodded. ¡°Yeah, so I¡¯m still looking. Here, want some popcorn?¡±


    Truthfully, aside from the lack of new listings, there was another reason for her delay: she was short on funds.


    Fortunately, Star Wars was now in theaters, and judging by its current momentum, it was guaranteed to dominate the box office. Its overseas release was also receiving rave reviews, surpassing even The Cultivator in sheer unstoppable hype.


    The guide mechanical dogs had already entered a smooth operational phase. The large stock of unsold mechanical dogs manufactured by Kio Company before its acquisition had all been repurposed for secondary production. With just a little patience, Chairwoman Sheng Quan would soon welcome a wave of cash flow.


    Of course, it was also possible that as soon as the money landed in her hands, she would discover a new investment opportunity and couldn¡¯t resist spending it all to generate even greater profits.


    But it was too early to think about that now. After its release, Interstellar War hadn¡¯t received excessive promotion, but the pre-release buzz alone was enough to propel an ordinary film into the spotlight¡ªlet alone one as brilliantly crafted as Interstellar War.


    Just two days after its premiere, the internet was already flooded with fan-made videos edited from the trailers.


    The most common praise from audiences was how immersive it felt.


    Back when The Cultivator was released, fans had simply adored the film with fervent enthusiasm. But Interstellar War presented them with a tangible, believable future world that felt within reach.


    At this point, even viewers who didn¡¯t follow the film industry could clearly sense: this movie was destined to be a blockbuster!


    [The planet explosion at the beginning was so realistic! I held my breath the entire time¡ªit felt like actual footage!]


    [Xu Man is truly a genius. He can make fantasy epics feel grand and emotional, and now he¡¯s made a sci-fi film so convincing it feels like the future. I¡¯m bad with words, so all I can say is: absolutely incredible!]


    [I heard the production team collaborated with C University for research and development¡ªmany of the props were actually created for real. The developer behind the guide mechanical dogs mentioned in an interview that merchandise might be released later!]


    [You expect us to buy movie tickets AND merchandise? Where¡¯s the morality? Where¡¯s the conscience? And most importantly¡ªwhere¡¯s the purchase link?!]


    [Lan Cai¡¯s decision to rescue Gu Li was so intense! Her face barely moved, but the subtle muscle tremors and that fleeting conflicted expression¡ªwow, Hua Qing¡¯s acting has skyrocketed since she switched companies!]


    [Hua Qing¡¯s performance was next-level, truly worthy of an award-winning actress. That scene where she opens the wine and makes her decision? The micro-expressions, the slow-motion intensity¡ªdamn it, I want to watch it a fourth time!!]


    [Same! When she whipped out that mechanical lash¡ªso cool! Queen, step on me! I¡¯m officially a Hua Qing fan now!]


    It wasn¡¯t just Sheng Quan scrolling through Interstellar War reviews online¡ªHua Qing was doing the same.


    The more she read, the happier she felt.


    Before joining Starlight Entertainment, Hua Qing¡¯s exhaustion had been painfully obvious. Under an inhuman schedule with almost no breaks, her performances in several consecutive projects had been lackluster, drawing waves of criticism and hate.


    Her fans weren¡¯t blind¡ªthey could see her deteriorating condition too. But no matter how much they raged against Wan Sheng, the exploitative company that overworked its artists, Hua Qing¡¯s schedule remained packed.


    In fact, during her first meeting with Sheng Quan at the live broadcast of Sing with You, she had been flying between daytime commitments and evening audience appearances, barely getting a few hours of sleep.


    No one was made of iron. Even workaholics like Gu Zhao would burn out from prolonged labor, and Hua Qing was no exception¡ªher body ached, her mind was drained, and at one point, she even developed psychological issues.


    Back then, not even her fans¡ªlet alone herself¡ªcould have imagined she¡¯d be where she was today.


    After joining Starlight, Hua Qing¡¯s schedule wasn¡¯t overloaded, but she had been consistently taking classes. Over two years, she only starred in a few TV dramas, making her one of the less prominent figures in Starlight¡¯s meteoric rise.


    Ambition was human nature, and Hua Qing was no different. But she also knew the entertainment industry was ruthless about appearances. Female actors struggled to land leading roles as they aged¡ªno matter how well they maintained their looks, they could no longer convincingly play young heroines.


    Worse yet, in China, whether in film or TV, female leads over 30 were rare. Even though Hua Qing was still stunning, before joining Starlight, she had already stopped receiving quality leading roles.


    After signing with Starlight, she witnessed the company¡¯s growth firsthand¡ªfrom a small, barely known agency to one teeming with young, talented artists and rising fame.


    When the company announced Interstellar War, Hua Qing was stunned by the massive budget. The most she dared hope for was a supporting role.


    Yet, to her shock, the company called her in to audition for the female lead.


    Not just any female lead¡ªthe protagonist of a high-budget, meticulously crafted blockbuster.


    Not a love interest for the male lead, but a fully fleshed-out character representing ancient China¡ªa genius-level strategist, decisive yet deeply principled.


    And the company wanted her to play it.


    For a moment, Hua Qing thought she was dreaming. She even panicked, wondering, Can I really pull this off?


    But then, Chairwoman Sheng Quan told her:


    "Qing-jie, when I read the script, I imagined you as the female lead in my mind."


    In the end, Hua Qing passed the audition.


    She became the female lead of Interstellar War.


    After over a year of hard work and sweat on set, she reaped immense rewards.


    The audience didn¡¯t dismiss her as unfit for the role because of her age.


    They recognized her improved acting skills and loved the character she portrayed.


    Watching her follower count surge on Weibo, Hua Qing realized she was crying¡ªnot just tears of joy for her success, but also unstoppable excitement for the broader path ahead.


    Hua Qing: [Many friends sent congratulations after Interstellar War premiered, asking how I feel. My thoughts are simple: I¡¯m incredibly grateful to have joined Starlight Entertainment. Thank you, Starlight Entertainment. Thank you, Chairman Sheng. I¡¯ll work even harder in the future.]


    As soon as this Weibo post went up, Hua Qing¡¯s devoted fans immediately understood what she meant.


    [Wuwu, I¡¯m so grateful to Chairman Sheng for giving our jiejie this role! And so happy she didn¡¯t let him down!]


    [Chairman Sheng truly values ability over age. I¡¯ve always wanted to say this¡ªyes, the entertainment industry favors youth, and older actors can¡¯t play teenagers, but why are lead roles always written so young? Don¡¯t say it¡¯s because audiences only like young faces! If they¡¯re good-looking and can act, I¡¯d watch an 80-year-old lead!]


    [In many foreign shows and movies, the leads are in their thirties, and people still go crazy for them. The domestic industry should learn from Chairman Sheng¡ªif the script and production are good, audiences don¡¯t actually care that much about age.]


    Honestly, Sheng Quan¡¯s mindset aligned perfectly with the fans¡¯.


    Of course, she enjoyed watching fresh-faced young stars¡ªwho doesn¡¯t love youthful beauty? But who said audiences could only appreciate one type of beauty?


    Sheng Quan could appreciate all kinds¡ªyouth had its charm, but maturity had its own allure.


    Interstellar War was a perfect example of leads exuding mature charisma. Even Sheng Quan, who knew them well, was instantly drawn into their performances.


    On screen, they weren¡¯t Hua Qing and Jiang Zhen¡ªthey were Lan Cai and Gu Li.


    Their 3,000-year-long dance of guarded trust and devotion, the palpable tension and chemistry in their confrontations¡ªevery glance, every movement pulled viewers deep into the story. It was a depth younger actors often struggled to achieve.


    Especially since both were stunningly attractive. In the film, Lan Cai was fierce and determined, while Gu Li was languid yet magnetic. When they shared the frame, the interplay of light and shadow on their faces was a visual feast¡ªa top-tier treat for the eyes.


    It absolutely enthralled her!


    No wonder Sheng Quan was obsessed with Interstellar War. The truth was, when a movie excelled in every aspect¡ªevery frame captivating¡ªit was destined to become a classic.


    And clearly, Sheng Quan¡¯s taste resonated with the masses.


    Domestically, the film was a sensation. Internationally, it was no different. Soon, overseas-based netizens rushed to share their excitement:


    [Ahhhh! An international student from Country I logging in! Interstellar War is super popular here too¡ªsold-out screenings everywhere! Netizens in Country I are raving about it, saying it¡¯s amazing. Cultivators was well-received too, but I wasn¡¯t as emotional then. Now, seeing them praise Chinese sci-fi as "this good"¡ªwho understands?! I¡¯m over the moon!]


    [Working in Country K here¡ªtheir forums already have tutorials on how to buy Chinese robotic dogs! They¡¯re also predicting Interstellar War will sweep this year¡¯s awards.]


    [Wuwuwu, sci-fi... Chinese sci-fi! I always thought we¡¯d never make a great sci-fi film, but our first big attempt is already the gold standard!]


    [Hey, have you noticed? Foreign netizens aren¡¯t just praising the movie¡ªthey¡¯re shocked by China¡¯s tech progress too! I¡¯m in Country O, and my colleague came back from the film stunned, saying he never realized China was so advanced. He actually thought we were still poor!]


    [This ?????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????proves cultural exports matter! Every country¡¯s media beautifies itself, but foreign audiences take it at face value. So, domestic producers, learn from Chairman Sheng¡ªmake more blockbusters! Enough with the endless "I love you, you love me not" dramas!!]


    [Chairman Sheng is the real deal. I still remember her starting with just a jianbing stall, and now look how much she¡¯s contributed! Starlight Entertainment¡ªwhere every release is a gem!!]


    In an ordinary Chinese-American household, an elderly man was reading the day¡¯s newspaper. Spotting the word "China," his eyes lit up, and he leaned in closer to read.


    Their family belonged to an older generation of immigrants who, during the tumultuous years of war, had come to this unfamiliar country in search of survival. Unbeknownst to them, they had lived here for a long time, barely scraping by. While the next generation still spoke Chinese, the grandchildren no longer considered themselves Chinese at all.


    In truth, even though their children raised in Country A could speak Chinese, they weren¡¯t particularly curious about China. Only the older generation still yearned for their homeland, dreaming of the day they could return and see it again.


    The old man¡¯s Chinese name was Cheng Ercao, and he was truly ancient. With age, his longing for home grew stronger, even though he hadn¡¯t been very old when he left.


    But his children and grandchildren couldn¡¯t understand this homesickness. Though they had been raised with some Chinese cultural influence, in their minds, China was still a rather backward place¡ªonly strong in military terms.


    They didn¡¯t believe China could have developed so rapidly in such a short time. After all, every time they saw China in films or shows, it still matched their outdated impressions.


    All of this changed last year when The Cultivator was released.


    A film from Huaxia swept across Country A. Schools, workplaces¡ªeverywhere, people were talking about Huaxia. They discussed its cultivation lore, its Classic of Mountains and Seas, and the fact that it had such a long, rich history.


    It was after watching The Cultivator that Cheng Ercao¡¯s children and grandchildren began to see Huaxia differently.


    No matter what, seeing people who shared their skin and blood shining so brightly on screen filled them with a quiet pride.


    When the grandchildren visited their grandparents, they listened eagerly to old stories about Huaxia¡ªits myths and legends, the local earth gods, fox spirits, and the Great Immortal Huang.


    They even bought toy flying swords, fantasizing about becoming cultivators themselves.


    For Cheng Ercao and his wife, Wang Xianghua, this was truly something to celebrate. They were overjoyed to see the younger generation discussing Huaxia with admiration rather than disdain.


    The two of them, who had never been fond of movies, happily watched The Cultivator twice.


    And now, another Huaxia film had taken Country A by storm.


    Though it was science fiction, the elderly couple insisted on buying tickets and stepping into the theater together.


    When they saw Huaxia three thousand years ago embracing a man named Gu Li purely because of his untainted Huaxia bloodline, tears streamed down their faces.


    ¡ª¡°We want to return to Huaxia.¡±


    At a family gathering, the two of them announced to their children: ¡°We¡¯re old now. That¡¯s where we grew up. Even if we die, we want to die in our homeland.¡±


    But this time, their children didn¡¯t object as they once would have. The most successful among them, the third son, set down his utensils and said:


    ¡°Actually, my company is looking to send someone to Huaxia to discuss a partnership on guide robotic dogs. I¡¯ll take the assignment and go with you.¡±


    ¡°Can I come too?!¡± The youngest granddaughter, fresh from school, climbed onto her chair and nestled into her grandmother¡¯s arms. ¡°I want a robotic dog¡ªthey look so cool!¡±


    ¡°Me too! I want to go!¡± The other grandchildren chimed in. ¡°I want to see the Ten Great Immortal Palaces!¡±


    ¡°Yeah! And climb Mount Xunxian! I want to seek immortality!¡±


    ¡°I want to ride a robotic dog too! Take me with you!¡±


    The elderly couple, though overwhelmed by the grandchildren¡¯s excitement, couldn¡¯t help but smile from the heart.


    ¡°You can¡¯t go now because of school, but when you¡¯re on break, you can visit Huaxia. We haven¡¯t been back in so long, but judging from the films, it¡¯s developed beautifully. You¡¯ll love it there.¡±


    On the fifth day of Stellar War¡¯s release, its global popularity skyrocketed, and tech companies began actively seeking collaborations with Huaxia.


    By the tenth day, a wave of older overseas Chinese began returning¡ªsome to visit relatives, others to resettle.


    Even wealthy Chinese entrepreneurs chose to return, investing, donating, and paying respects to their ancestors.


    No one had expected a single film to have such an impact.


    On the twentieth day of Stellar War¡¯s release, five production lines at KIO¡¯s subsidiary factory, working overtime, finally met their projected output.


    The first batch of robotic guide dogs was successfully shipped out.

 Chapter 78

    How popular can a movie possibly get?


    When "The Cultivator" was released, it was a massive hit, right? It raked in a staggering 8.9 billion at the box office, surpassing the combined earnings of all other films during the same period.


    This film, based on a uniquely Chinese concept, sparked a global cultivation frenzy.


    At its peak, hordes of foreign fans flocked to China¡ªsome drawn by the breathtaking landscapes featured in the movie, others to "pay homage" to the Ten Great Immortal Palaces.


    During that time, entertainment journalists couldn¡¯t have been happier.


    All they had to do was ride the wave of "The Cultivator¡¯s" popularity, and their articles would instantly rack up sky-high views.


    One reporter even mused, "Who knows when we¡¯ll see another phenomenon like this?"


    "The Cultivator" was already the pinnacle¡ªits peak so high that no one could imagine any Chinese film surpassing it.


    Yet, who would¡¯ve thought that just over a year later, "Stellar War" would burst onto the scene?


    The director was still Xu Man, and the production company was still Sheng Quan¡¯s team. Together, they managed to surpass the very peak they had created.


    While "The Cultivator" might have lost some viewers due to its uniquely Chinese setting, "Stellar War," with its sci-fi theme, was universally appealing.


    "Editor-in-chief, should we go with the headline [''Stellar War'' Tickets Scalped for 150 Yuan, Producers Urge Rational Purchases] or [''Mechanical War Dogs from Stellar War Actually Exist, Priced at 700,000 Yuan Each and Still Selling Out'']?"


    The editor-in-chief thought for a moment. "Run both, just space them out."


    Once the editor-in-chief walked away, an intern leaned in and asked, "Sister Chen, isn¡¯t the 700,000 yuan price tag for the top-tier mechanical dogs? The guide dog series, priced at 15,000 yuan, is the one flying off the shelves, right?"


    "I know," Sister Chen replied, still typing away, "but this version gets more clicks. We¡¯ll clarify the details in the article."


    She glanced at the materials in front of her and added, "But honestly, Sheng Quan is really something. Look at this¡ªmechanical dogs are usually priced sky-high, with even basic models going for hundreds of thousands. Yet she¡¯s selling them for just 15,000 yuan."


    The intern skimmed the documents. "Isn¡¯t it because of a technological breakthrough? Lower production costs mean lower prices."


    "That¡¯s where your inexperience shows," Sister Chen chuckled. "If she hadn¡¯t disclosed the cost reduction, who would¡¯ve known? Even if she slashed prices to 150,000, 100,000, or even 60,000¨C70,000, she¡¯d still make a killing."


    "Think about it¡ªmechanical guide dogs are essential. We might not need them, but what about the visually impaired? A trained guide dog costs 200,000 yuan, and it¡¯s a living creature with a limited lifespan¡ªmaybe 15 to 20 years."


    She tapped the documents. "Mechanical guide dogs are different. They come with a 50-year warranty, practically lasting a lifetime. Even if Sheng Quan priced them at 200,000, people would still scramble to buy them. She has no real competition in this market¡ªshe could set any price she wanted."


    "Ohhh," the intern gasped in realization. "So she¡¯s got a monopoly, but instead of exploiting it, she lowered prices drastically."


    The more he thought about it, the more impressed he became. "And not just to 100,000 or 200,000¡ªbut to 15,000, which is ridiculously low in comparison..."


    "Wow, I didn¡¯t get it from the news before, but now that I see it, Sheng Quan¡¯s practically running a charity here."


    "Right? That¡¯s why so many media outlets call her a socially responsible entrepreneur. Honestly, I used to think it was just PR, but now I see I was wrong."


    People in media tend to be cynical¡ªwhenever someone gets heaped with praise or criticism, their first thought is, "Is this a setup?"


    It¡¯s like how Sheng Quan, scrolling through Weibo, would see a random shop suddenly go viral and immediately wonder, "Did they buy hype?" Just professional skepticism.


    But now, even a seasoned skeptic like Sister Chen had to admit: Sheng Quan really was that kind of entrepreneur.


    She made up her mind. "I¡¯m highlighting this in the article."


    The intern, still reeling, was doing mental math. A real guide dog costs 200,000 yuan. If Sheng Quan priced her mechanical versions at 200,000, people would still buy them. But at 15,000, she¡¯s essentially giving up 185,000 yuan in pure profit per unit.


    Then he checked the sales figures on the official website and gasped. "...Damn, that¡¯s insanely generous. I¡¯m buying tickets to watch ''Stellar War'' three times today¡ªgotta support Sheng Quan."


    "Turning down easy money¡ªnow that¡¯s vision!"


    "It¡¯s not exactly ''turning down easy money,''" Sheng Quan admitted when interviewed about the media frenzy praising her pricing strategy for mechanical guide dogs.


    Sure, the praise felt great, but she wanted to set the record straight: "The D1 series does have slim profit margins, but it¡¯s not at a loss like some reports claim. I¡¯m a businesswoman, not a saint¡ªof course I want to make money."


    "Even if I didn¡¯t care about profits, there are still operational costs¡ªequipment, salaries, everything. I¡¯m not running a charity."


    Donations during disasters? Absolutely. But mass-producing mechanical guide dogs at a loss? That wasn¡¯t happening.


    It was like her security company, which exclusively hired veterans. But not every veteran got in¡ªtrainees had to undergo rigorous screening and training to meet the standards.


    ¡ª"Our mechanical guide dogs come in different series because we have to account for varying economic situations. Not every visually impaired person can afford a luxury item¡ªit should be accessible."


    ¡ª"Of course, different price points mean different performance and quality. We¡¯ve done extensive testing. The D1 series cuts costs, so it¡¯s not as refined as the D2 or D3, but it¡¯s fully functional for daily life."


    ¡ª"Honestly, 15,000 yuan is still steep. For someone earning 3,000 a month, that¡¯s five months¡¯ salary. The R&D team is working hard to bring costs down further..."


    After the interview aired, Sheng Quan¡¯s public image soared even higher.


    Why? Because she was refreshingly honest.


    With the media showering her with praise, some had wondered, "She¡¯s not doing this for free¡ªwhy make it sound like she is?"


    But Sheng Quan herself stepped forward to clarify, saying there was no need to praise her¡ªshe wasn¡¯t operating at a loss and was still making a profit. While the D1 model was priced affordably, that affordability was specifically for visually impaired individuals who genuinely needed guide functionality. For other series with entertainment features, she openly admitted they were priced higher.


    She also mentioned that she understood how 15,000 yuan might still be expensive for the average person, and she was committed to developing even more affordable and advanced guide robotic dogs for the blind.


    Hearing these words directly from Sheng Quan instantly softened the skepticism of those who had been put off by the media¡¯s excessive praise. Some even began to admire her.


    [Earlier, I saw comments saying 15,000 yuan is still too expensive. For ordinary families, it¡¯s certainly not a small sum. But if you look up the prices of robotic dogs before this, they often started at 500,000 yuan and didn¡¯t even come close to the D1¡¯s agility and convenience. Starview has really gone above and beyond.]


    [I¡¯m so grateful to Chairwoman Sheng. Right now, her company is the only one with this level of technology for robotic guide dogs. She could¡¯ve charged exorbitant prices, but my nephew, who lost his sight due to an accident¡ªwhen the news broke, my brother and sister-in-law were prepared to spend their entire savings to buy him one. Then the price was announced: just 15,000 yuan. Honestly, our whole family breathed a sigh of relief.]


    [I don¡¯t know if everyone¡¯s aware, but out of all the series, only the D1 is exclusively sold to Chinese citizens with official blind disability certificates. The identity binding ensures the information is pre-registered to prevent resale. I live in Country B, and people here, knowing I¡¯m Chinese, have asked me when the D1 will be available internationally. That¡¯s when I realized the D1 is a benefit reserved solely for our fellow citizens.]


    [Same here! A classmate asked me about it, and I was shocked¡ªStarview hasn¡¯t even promoted this domestically.]


    [Wow, I had no idea! But thinking about it, the D1 is priced so much lower than the other series. Even if there¡¯s some profit, it can¡¯t be much. It makes sense for Starview to prioritize supplying it to our own people. Ugh, I love Chairwoman Sheng even more now!]


    As discussions flourished online, in the real world, robotic guide dogs were being delivered to households one by one.


    In an ordinary family of three, the parents watched nervously as their eight-year-old child took careful steps forward. Just as she was about to bump into a wall, the large mechanical dog beside her let out a soft whine, gently tugging at her hem to guide her around the obstacle.


    The child smoothly changed direction and successfully reached the master bedroom.


    The parents watched, laughing and crying at once. ¡°It works! It really works!¡±


    At another home, a young man took a deep breath and said to the mechanical dog he held by the leash, ¡°Lele, take me to West Lake Park.¡±


    The dog barked in acknowledgment and set off at a steady pace, its four mechanical legs moving smoothly. At every turn, it would pause, whine softly, take a few steps ahead, and glance back to ensure its owner followed before continuing.


    Forty-three minutes later¡ªafter crossing seven traffic lights and climbing two sets of stairs¡ªthey arrived at West Lake Park without a single mishap.


    The young man inhaled the fresh scent of grass, then suddenly hugged the dog, laughing joyfully.


    His friends, who had been trailing behind, rushed over, enthusiastically petting the dog. ¡°Good boy! You¡¯re amazing!¡±


    In a smaller town, an elderly man frowned, refusing to take the leash. ¡°Why waste money on this? I¡¯ve been blind most of my life¡ªI¡¯m used to it. Return it!¡±


    ¡°Just try it, Dad. There¡¯s a 10-day trial period. I¡¯ve already registered your info, the layout of the house, and the places you like to visit. Just tell it where you want to go.¡±


    ¡°If you still don¡¯t want it after ten days, I¡¯ll return it. No refunds only if it¡¯s intentionally damaged.¡±


    After his children left, the old man¡ªlong widowed and living alone¡ªsat in his home, wanting to listen to the TV. He fumbled around but couldn¡¯t find the remote.


    He guessed his grandson had probably misplaced it during his last visit and resigned himself to searching blindly.


    ¡°That rascal. Where could he have put it?¡±


    A sudden whine from beside him startled the old man. It took him a second to remember the mechanical guide dog his kids had bought. Such a waste of money¡ªat his age, what did he need this for?


    Before he could dwell on it, the dog nudged him, then pressed the remote into his hand.


    The old man froze, gripping the remote in stunned silence.


    ¡°Hey! Can you hear me?¡±


    ¡°Whine...¡±


    ¡°You really can hear! Do you even have ears? Hah! Go fetch the blanket from the couch. You know what a blanket is? Long, soft, pretty big.¡±


    ¡°Bark!¡±


    ¡°No need to snap at me¡ªwait, you actually brought it? You even know what a blanket is? Clever thing.¡±


    ¡°Whine...¡±


    ¡°Oh, now you¡¯re acting coy when I praise you? For a machine, you¡¯ve got quite the personality... Alright, alright, stop nudging. One head pat and you¡¯re happy? You really are just like a dog.¡±


    Ten days later, the man¡¯s children were on the phone.


    The brother asked, ¡°Should we check if Dad wants to keep the mechanical dog?¡±


    The sister laughed. ¡°Why bother? If he really didn¡¯t want it, he¡¯d have called us to return it by now. His silence means he¡¯s keeping it.¡±


    ¡°You should¡¯ve seen it, bro. Auntie told me Dad¡¯s been doting on that dog, taking it everywhere¡ªtotally unlike his usual reclusive self. If Auntie hadn¡¯t stopped him, he¡¯d have gone fishing, claiming ¡®Big Yellow¡¯ would know when a fish bites. Yeah, that¡¯s what he named it.¡±


    This old man wasn¡¯t the only reluctant convert. Many of the initial users were elderly individuals who had lived with blindness for years and never owned a guide dog before.


    After all, the cost of a trained guide dog was prohibitive, and managing its daily needs¡ªfood, walks, hygiene¡ªwas far harder for them than for sighted people.


    For the blind, the bond with a guide dog ran deeper than with a typical pet, making the loss when the dog passed away devastating.


    Mechanical dogs sidestepped these issues. They might malfunction, need repairs, or require part replacements, but in terms of lifespan... Well, the owner might go before the dog did.


    Once Starview¡¯s first batch of robotic guide dogs hit the market, people were surprised to see far more visually impaired individuals navigating the streets with D1 models in tow.


    Blindness, regardless of the country, affects many due to various causes. Most simply avoided going out because of the dangers.


    But as more blind individuals began appearing in public, it became increasingly clear just how much of a financial sacrifice Sheng Quan had made by pricing the D1 so low.


    Sheng Quan: No, not at all¡ªI¡¯ve actually made a huge profit.


    Recently, she¡¯s been raking in the money.


    The D1 series barely breaks even after deducting costs and labor, but the other series? That¡¯s a different story.


    She stuck to one principle: the practical D1 model should be as affordable as possible, while the more entertainment-focused models should carry premium prices¡ªand not just that, she even implemented limited sales.


    This might sound counterintuitive, but the results were astonishing.


    The budget-friendly D1 maintained steady sales, with most customers carefully considering their purchase. But when it came to the entertainment-oriented mechanical dogs, despite their exorbitant prices, sales skyrocketed.


    The top-tier D5 model, priced at a staggering one million per unit, sold out instantly every time it was released¡ªthanks to global demand and limited availability.


    Sheng Quan understood the phenomenon well. One of the most thrilling aspects of Interstellar Wars was how the film¡¯s cutting-edge special effects immersed audiences in a "realistic" futuristic world from the very beginning.


    Set in a modern world 3,000 years in the future¡ªjust fifty years ahead of our own¡ªthe movie showcased existing and near-future technologies with such vivid realism that it effortlessly stoked people¡¯s fascination with advanced tech.


    And then came the mechanical dogs, which played a pivotal role in the film.


    The more Interstellar Wars dominated the global box office, the more unstoppable the sales of Kanxing¡¯s mechanical dog series became.


    This might just be the most expensive¡ªand best-selling¡ª"merchandise" in history.


    While Sheng Quan was busy counting her profits, not everyone was cheering her success. In China, the public largely admired her due to the D1¡¯s "affordable pricing," even among those without blind family members, who acknowledged her efforts as commendable.


    But international media, especially in countries that didn¡¯t benefit from the D1¡¯s accessibility, had a different take.


    They conceded that there was no argument against blind individuals purchasing mechanical guide dogs¡ªafter all, who would deny them a more convenient aid?


    Their criticism centered on this: "Are people blindly buying overpriced, entertainment-only mechanical products simply because they¡¯re influenced by the hype around a blockbuster movie?"


    In other words, Interstellar Wars was so wildly popular that fans were impulsively splurging on "merch" without a second thought.


    As for Kanxing, how could they justify selling entertainment-based mechanical dogs at such outrageous prices? If guide models could be sold so cheaply in their own country, why were the "merchandise" versions priced so high? Weren¡¯t they just cashing in?


    About two weeks after these criticisms surfaced, an incident in Country A made headlines.


    A middle-aged man with antisocial tendencies stormed a school with a gun, indiscriminately shooting at students. When he entered a classroom, the teacher¡¯s D3 pet mechanical dog took the bullet meant for her.


    After scanning and assessing the situation, it tackled the attacker, pinning him down and preventing further harm.


    The news sent shockwaves across the entire nation.

 Chapter 79

    Since Country A has no gun restrictions, incidents involving firearms are not uncommon.


    But none have ever escalated to this scale before.


    First, the attacker targeted defenseless young children¡ªan act so heinous that even in a country where gun violence is frequent, it crossed a line and deeply challenged the public''s tolerance.


    Second, the perpetrator was heavily armed and had even scouted the school''s security measures in advance. It was as if they waltzed in unimpeded, moving from classroom to classroom as though the school were a shooting range. Among all the classrooms, only the one where the teacher brought a mechanical dog had zero casualties.


    Some classrooms were left in pools of blood, with grieving parents weeping in anguish.


    Others, though chaotic, remained unharmed. Parents who rushed to the scene upon hearing the news clung to their unharmed children, laughing and crying in relief.


    The reason those children emerged unscathed? Their teacher had brought a D3 mechanical dog from Huaxia to class.


    How could the parents who lost their children not feel heartbroken and regretful?


    Especially since mechanical dogs had recently gained popularity. Some families could have easily afforded one but chose not to for various reasons.


    Now, with tragedy striking, regret was too late.


    "Penny was well-liked by the kids at school. She often brought toys for them, and this mechanical dog seemed to be a birthday gift she received recently. Because of its cool, sleek design, the children adored it, so she frequently brought it to school for them to play with."


    A parent being interviewed spoke through tears¡ªtears of gratitude:


    "My daughter mentioned it to me before. At the time, I just thought the mechanical dog looked impressive and that the kids loved it. I never imagined it could protect them. I¡¯m so grateful to Teacher Penny and that mechanical dog. I heard she¡¯s still in the hospital¡ªI hope she recovers."


    But Penny wasn¡¯t entirely unharmed. The D3 mechanical dog wasn¡¯t advanced enough to predict danger before it happened, like something out of Stellar Wars.


    If it were, Gu Shuyue would have already won this year¡¯s top technology award.


    That said, even without reaching that level of sophistication, she had already bagged several awards since the mechanical dog¡¯s release.


    The reason the D3 intervened was due to a feature shared with the D4 and D5 models: it could monitor the wearer¡¯s vital signs through a wristband. If it detected abnormalities, it had the authority to call emergency services.


    Security functions were also part of the design, but during development, Sheng Quan and her team held lengthy discussions.


    Ultimately, they decided against giving the mechanical dogs attack permissions. Machines, no matter how reliable, could malfunction.


    If they couldn¡¯t guarantee 100% control, it was better not to include it.


    So, the D3 didn¡¯t actually attack the gunman¡ªit used its heavy frame to pin him down without causing harm, preventing further violence.


    Three conditions triggered this response:


    1. Penny was attacked, and her vitals plummeted.


    2. She issued an emergency alert.


    3. The armed assailant continued firing.


    Only when all three conditions were met did the mechanical dog¡ªwhose judgment was still inferior to a real dog¡¯s¡ªleap into action, blocking a fatal shot, subduing the attacker, and then calling for help.


    Honestly, the development team never expected it to be put to the test so soon.


    "I thought it¡¯d take at least six months," Sheng Quan remarked during a video call with Gu Shuyue and the others.


    The young researchers were already media darlings, but after this incident, they¡¯d likely be swarmed wherever they went.


    "Though, when we programmed it, we didn¡¯t expect it to sell overseas so quickly."


    And to so many foreign buyers.


    Now, it had even played a protective role in a violent attack.


    What should have been a positive development took a bizarre turn.


    Gu Shuyue rubbed her temples as she read the latest headlines. "That sociopath is actually suing us, claiming our mechanical dog injured him. The audacity."


    "Some people are even supporting him, using this to boycott Stellar Wars. What kind of nonsense is this?"


    Sheng Quan remained unshaken. "They¡¯re the ones whose interests our mechanical dogs threatened."


    "Relax, this case is too high-profile. The opposition might seem loud, but far more people are on our side."


    The backlash would only fuel demand, amplifying the hype.


    Since the incident, Sheng Quan¡¯s private line had been ringing nonstop.


    And those who had her number? None were pushovers.


    As the saying goes: Every family has children to protect.


    Even if those young parents couldn¡¯t afford the expensive mechanical hounds, who said parents over fifty weren¡¯t parents anymore?


    ¡ªIn a private hospital room in Country A, a couple in their fifties, who appeared much younger than their age due to meticulous upkeep, walked in.


    A blonde girl lay on the bed, still asleep, a breathing mask covering her face. Beside her, a massive black mechanical hound was sprawled on the floor. Hearing the movement, it lifted its head and glanced over. Recognizing its owner¡¯s parents, it stood up, nuzzled against them affectionately, and wagged its mechanical tail¡ªadorned with a pink bow.


    "Good dog."


    The parents¡¯ eyes softened at the sight of the mechanical hound, especially when they noticed the bullet dents marring its body. Even though it was just a machine, the damage looked horrifying.


    If it hadn¡¯t shielded their daughter in time, that bullet would have struck her instead.


    Though they knew it wasn¡¯t alive, they still reached out to pat its head.


    Responding to their touch, the hound nuzzled each of them before gracefully trotting back to its owner¡¯s bedside on its agile mechanical limbs and settling down again.


    ¡ªAs if standing guard.


    The sight brought the parents some comfort. They turned to the nurse in the room and asked, "How many times has Penny woken up?"


    The nurse quickly replied, "Twice last night, but she drifted back to sleep each time without fully regaining consciousness. It¡¯s normal. She¡¯ll gradually recover as time passes."


    Penny¡¯s mother sat by the bed, tenderly stroking her daughter¡¯s pale cheek. "As long as she recovers, that¡¯s all that matters. As long as she can live well."


    Her father gazed at his daughter with heartache before comforting his wife, "Don¡¯t be upset. Penny survived because you gave her Bella. If it weren¡¯t for Bella..."


    That despicable attacker had aimed at the teacher first. After incapacitating the adult, they would¡¯ve turned their gun on the children without restraint.


    "Back then, when you wanted to give Bella to her, I thought it was unnecessary. Now, I¡¯m glad you didn¡¯t listen to me."


    Hearing its name, the mechanical hound on the floor gave a gentle wag of its tail.


    Bella was a common pet name in Country A, but now, it had become synonymous with heroism across headlines.


    The couple waited quietly until their daughter finally stirred awake. However, the young girl was still deeply traumatized, her eyes darting around in panic the moment she regained consciousness.


    "Bella... Bella..."


    At her call, Bella immediately rose and pressed her head against her owner¡¯s shoulder in reassurance. Seeing Bella, the girl on the hospital bed gradually calmed down.


    This was clearly post-traumatic stress disorder.


    Witnessing their daughter¡¯s fragile state, the parents¡¯ hearts ached even more. Their only solace was that Penny relied heavily on Bella, and the mechanical hound could stay by her side 24/7, providing constant comfort.


    They stayed with their daughter patiently until she fell asleep again before stepping out of the room.


    "Have you reached Sheng? What did she say?" the wife asked her husband.


    She was, of course, referring to Sheng Quan.


    "Sheng understands Penny¡¯s situation is special. She agreed to send a team to Country A to repair Bella," the husband replied, his expression dark. "As for the backlash in the news, she isn¡¯t too concerned. The D-series is just as popular in other countries."


    "Is Sheng giving up on the Country A market?" The wife frowned, glancing back at the closed hospital door.


    Her husband¡¯s face was equally grim. "It¡¯s unclear, but Starview isn¡¯t short on clients. The production speed for mechanical hounds is already too slow¡ªthere¡¯s been a supply shortage for a while now. Even if they abandon Country A, it wouldn¡¯t affect them."


    "That can¡¯t happen. Penny needs Bella. Her future children will need mechanical hounds too. And so will we. Who can guarantee something like this won¡¯t happen again?"


    The wife was furious, especially standing outside her injured daughter¡¯s room. "Bella protected our daughter, and now she¡¯s being vilified for it. Whether this is a business rivalry or not, I won¡¯t tolerate it."


    She held out her hand, and an assistant promptly handed her a list. "These are the media outlets leading the charge against mechanical hounds."


    Her husband scanned the names with equal anger before forcing a cold, mirthless smile.


    "Don¡¯t worry, dear. You handle the courtroom. Leave these matters to me."


    "We¡¯ll make sure Starview can thrive in Country A without interference."


    ¡ªChina.


    While Country A was in an uproar over mechanical hounds, Sheng Quan, the company¡¯s owner, remained utterly unperturbed as she watered a small plant she kept.


    "They really don¡¯t stop to think¡ªparents who can gift their daughter a birthday present worth hundreds of thousands aren¡¯t ordinary people."


    Especially since mechanical hounds weren¡¯t fixed assets, nor did they generate profit or serve any practical purpose. The D3¡¯s slogan had made it clear from the start: it was purely an entertainment pet.


    The fact that Teacher Penny could receive such a birthday gift not only proved her parents were wealthy but also showed how much they loved her.


    And parents like Penny¡¯s were far from rare.


    Though this world¡¯s version of Country A differed somewhat from Sheng Quan¡¯s previous life¡¯s understanding of it, one thing remained the same¡ªin Country A, money paved the way for everything.


    The primary users of entertainment mechanical dogs were precisely these affluent individuals.


    They wouldn¡¯t be swayed by public opinion.


    Even if the forces opposing mechanical dogs had the backing of Country A¡¯s government, when these wealthy parents¡ªconcerned for their children¡¯s safety or their own¡ªunited, no opposition stood a chance.


    The previously withheld classroom surveillance footage was swiftly released.


    Media outlets that had been vocal in their condemnation suddenly fell silent.


    Protests still filled the streets, but this time, the chants had shifted to ¡°Support mechanical dogs protecting civilians!¡±


    ¡°If my child¡¯s classroom had a mechanical dog, he wouldn¡¯t have died!¡±


    ¡°My mother was killed in a shooting three years ago¡ªjust because she crossed paths with a drunkard. If she¡¯d had a mechanical dog with her, she could¡¯ve survived!¡±


    ¡°The footage makes it clear¡ªthat scumbad wasn¡¯t harmed! The mechanical dog just restrained him to stop him from hurting others!¡±


    ¡°Bella saved its owner and the children! It¡¯s a hero!!!¡±


    The clash between supporters and opponents in Country A raged fiercely, with both sides locked in a heated battle. Meanwhile, the company at the center of the storm, Kanxing, remained comfortably distant in Huaxia, showing no intention of getting involved.


    If there were a soundtrack to this, Country A would be a warzone, with both sides firing shots, while Huaxia basked in peaceful sunshine, sipping tea.


    Though no similar incidents had occurred in other countries, the uproar was too significant to ignore, and international media rushed to cover it.


    As a result, orders for mechanical dogs skyrocketed once again.


    Netizens worldwide joined the discussion:


    ¡¾Mechanical dog bodyguards? So cool!¡¿


    ¡¾Why didn¡¯t Kanxing emphasize the protective features earlier? If they¡¯d marketed that, I would¡¯ve ordered one immediately. Now, they¡¯re completely sold out!¡¿


    ¡¾Kanxing¡¯s official response clarified that mechanical dogs don¡¯t normally have autonomous defense capabilities. The reason it tackled the attacker was because it detected its owner¡¯s declining vital signs.¡¿


    ¡¾That¡¯s awesome! It monitors vitals? So if someone collapses, it can call an ambulance?¡¿


    ¡¾There¡¯s already a case in Country K¡ªa blind elderly man living alone had a medical emergency, and his guide mechanical dog called for help.¡¿


    ¡¾I¡¯m sold! But why no fur??? Fake fur wouldn¡¯t be hard to add!¡¿


    ¡¾One question¡ªcan guide dogs speak human language? If it just barks, how would emergency services understand?¡¿


    ¡¾Even if they don¡¯t, emergency services would still respond to silent calls. Plus, I think guide dogs can send distress signals via text.¡¿


    Someone chimed in with an explanation: ¡¾All D-series mechanical dogs let you choose language settings¡ªsome use human speech, others use dog sounds. Interestingly, according to official data, only 30% of buyers opt for human speech; the other 70% prefer the classic ¡°woof.¡±¡¿


    ¡¾Even more perfect! The only downside is the lack of fur!! Why won¡¯t the company just add fur?!¡¿


    ¡¾The price is a bit steep, though. Imagine how safe you¡¯d feel with a massive mechanical dog by your side everywhere.¡¿


    ¡¾The cost is understandable¡ªKanxing is the only company in the world with this tech, and it¡¯s based in Huaxia.¡¿


    ¡¾D1 series price chart (Image 1) (Image 2)¡¿


    The international netizens paused¡ªthen exploded with replies.


    ¡¾$15,000??? Is that in Huaxia currency???¡¿


    ¡¾Checked the exchange rate¡ªwow, $15,000 for a mechanical guide dog? That¡¯s insanely cheap! Why isn¡¯t this on the official site?!¡¿


    ¡¾I was wondering why there¡¯s D2 to D5 but no D1. Turns out it¡¯s here! And the specs aren¡¯t bad at all¡ª$15,000 is a steal!!!¡¿


    The poster who shared the images finally clarified: ¡¾The D1 series is exclusively for Huaxia citizens with official blind disability certification. It¡¯s a special welfare benefit from Kanxing.¡¿


    ¡¾!!!! This isn¡¯t just a benefit¡ªit¡¯s practically a giveaway!!!¡¿


    ¡¾How easy is it to get Huaxia citizenship? I¡¯d switch my mom¡¯s nationality in a heartbeat!!¡¿


    ¡¾Why is Kanxing playing favorites?! All customers should get the same treatment!¡¿


    ¡¾I remember a Chinese classmate once told me that Chinese people are extremely, extremely, extremely patriotic. It might not be obvious in daily life, but whenever a major disaster strikes, they come together in remarkable unity. Maybe that¡¯s part of the reason.¡¿


    ¡¾I remember! When floods hit China, Sheng Quan, the boss of Starview, even went to the scene to help. She paused filming for Interstellar War to join relief efforts, and that¡¯s where the mechanical dogs made their first appearance.¡¿


    ¡¾So, is it easy to get Chinese citizenship? Is it too late for me to move there now?!¡¿


    One netizen did some research and replied: ¡¾Forget it. Chinese citizenship is notoriously hard to obtain¡ªit¡¯s one of the most difficult in the world. Plus, they don¡¯t recognize dual citizenship.¡¿


    This sparked another round of lamentations.


    But ?????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????soon, they rallied: ¡¾Actually, it¡¯s fine. Not everyone needs a guide dog anyway. Given China¡¯s circumstances, it¡¯s understandable that Starview favors its own people.¡¿


    Another netizen delivered a crushing blow: ¡¾The Interstellar War merch discounts aren¡¯t just for the mechanical dogs¡ªalmost 70% of the products have special deals for Chinese buyers. Here¡¯s a comparison of the prices they pay versus what we pay (Pic 1) (Pic 2).¡¿


    The freshly comforted netizens: ¡¾......¡¿


    When Interstellar War merchandise dropped, fans worldwide went into a frenzy. Anyone lucky enough to snag a full set and flaunt it online could skyrocket to the day¡¯s top 10 trending list.


    Yes, the prices were steep, but the quality was undeniable.


    Forget the ultra-rare mechanical dogs¡ªeven the tiny desktop helper bots, designed to fetch pens, paper, or tissues, had people camping online to grab one.


    Don¡¯t ask why they¡¯d buy a robot to hand them things already within arm¡¯s reach.


    This is love!


    Understand? It¡¯s all about love!


    Those little bots were functionally redundant, but thanks to the global Interstellar War fanbase, they became a smash hit.


    Sure, knockoffs popped up, but fans insisted on the pricey, hard-to-get official merch over cheap imitations.


    First, the knockoffs couldn¡¯t compete on quality. Second¡ªlove!


    And while they fought tooth and nail for scraps, Chinese fans not only got first dibs but also discounts!


    Rumors said the discounts came from promotions at filming locations in China.


    But guess where those promotions were held? China.


    So, bottom line: only Chinese fans could score those deals.


    Cue the outrage.


    ¡¾This is unfair!!! I protest!!¡¿


    ¡¾Oh yeah? Protest by not buying then.¡¿


    ¡¾......I¡¯ll still buy it.¡¿


    ¡¾Then what¡¯s the protest for? China not allowing dual citizenship? Dream on¡ªthey¡¯ll never change that, no matter how much you whine.¡¿


    ¡¾I protest why the promotions aren¡¯t in OUR country!¡¿


    ¡¾Because Interstellar War wasn¡¯t filmed here.¡¿


    ¡¾......Maybe we should just fantasize about Sheng Quan switching nationalities. She might move here¡ªshe didn¡¯t grow up in China, so it shouldn¡¯t be too hard for her, right?¡¿


    Netizens worldwide clearly share one trait: their conversations always veer off-topic.


    Now, they¡¯re debating which country Sheng Quan would move to if she ever changed citizenship.


    Honestly, everything Sheng Quan does is aspirational¡ªwhether it¡¯s The Cultivators, Interstellar War, buying Starlight Manor, hosting galas, or funding research.


    This twenty-something woman is a master of spectacle and attention.


    Fans let their imaginations run wild:


    ¡¾Definitely Country A¡ªshe owns a manor there!¡¿


    ¡¾Country K, no question. The mechanical dog production line is there.¡¿


    ¡¾By that logic, Country O wins¡ªit¡¯s gorgeous, a perfect vacation spot.¡¿


    ¡¾Someone get Sheng Quan to Country G to promote XXX!! Rumor has it she¡¯s the reason Jiang Zhen blew up!¡¿


    Amid the lively debate, one netizen abruptly interjected:


    ¡¾Give it up. Sheng Quan isn¡¯t switching nationalities.¡¿


    Others weren¡¯t pleased. If you¡¯re not joining the fun, don¡¯t ruin it: ¡¾You¡¯re not Sheng Quan. How would you know?¡¿


    ¡¾Do you guys even read the news? Sheng Quan just bought the most famous¡ªand expensive¡ªluxury penthouse in Shanghai¡¯s prime district. The place spans dozens of acres. Here, let me drop the price tag and some pics.¡¿


    Netizens after seeing the price: ¡¾......¡¿


    ¡¾COOL!!!!!!!!¡¿


    ¡¾9999999¡¿


    ¡¾What does 9999999 mean?¡¿


    ¡¾Learned it from my Chinese coworker¡ªit means ¡°next-level awesome.¡±¡¿


    ¡¾Should we change the subject?¡¿


    ¡¾Good idea. How about we discuss visiting China for an Interstellar War promo and snagging that discount?¡¿


    The news had already spread internationally, and naturally, domestic headlines were quick to pick it up.


    The buzz was so overwhelming that it even overshadowed the ongoing feud between two factions in Country A, skyrocketing straight to the top of the day''s trending list.


    ¡¾Sheng Quan Purchases New Estate¡¿


    ¡¾Value: 2.5 Billion¡¿

 Chapter 80

    When Sheng Quan was in school, she was obsessed with watching Mary Sue dramas and novels. Back then, stories like "21st-Century Cold-Blooded Assassin Transmigrates into a Princess Consort" were equally popular.


    As a teenager, the plots she encountered went like this: the domineering CEO lived in mansions worth hundreds of millions, drove cars worth tens of millions, traveled in private jets, always had an all-capable assistant by his side, and was accompanied by an old butler who would wipe his tears and sigh, "The young master hasn¡¯t been this happy in a long time."


    Back then, Sheng Quan never imagined that one day, she would become something even more impressive than a domineering CEO¡ªa domineering chairwoman.


    And her residence was even more expensive than those of the CEOs in the novels. Though, considering the inflation since the time she read those stories, it was understandable.


    Unfortunately, private jets had to be downgraded to private helicopters in her case. After all, private jets weren¡¯t easy to park, while helicopters, being smaller, were far more convenient to land wherever she pleased.


    And to this day, Sheng Quan still felt a twinge of jealousy over how the CEOs in novels could fly their private jets without having to apply for flight routes in advance.


    Sheng Domineering Chairwoman Quan gazed at the garden so vast she could practically ride a horse through it and joked to Gu Zhao beside her:


    "Thanks to your hard work, your boss has bought another house."


    Unfortunately, Gu Zhao didn¡¯t get the joke about "working overtime to help the boss buy property." He thought he was being praised.


    "Do you like houses?" he asked, looking at Sheng Quan with an eager expression that seemed to say, "Just say the word, and I¡¯ll work tirelessly to boost company profits so you can own properties all over the world."


    His beautiful face remained as expressionless as ever, appearing perfectly composed. But Sheng Quan could tell exactly what he was scheming just from the faint glimmer in his striking light-colored eyes.


    "I do like them, but right now, I only like this one." She truly adored this mansion¡ªnot only was it nearly perfect in every way, but it had also been thoroughly cleaned and prepped, ready for her to move in without any hassle.


    After all, there were hardly any new luxury properties on the market in the country. And Sheng Quan wasn¡¯t the type to insist on overseeing the renovation of her own home. Maybe in her past life she would have, but back then, she hadn¡¯t had nearly as much savings.


    This multi-billion-dollar mansion hadn¡¯t fallen from the sky either. It had been sold by a low-key wealthy businessman named Zheng Gong.


    Zheng Gong was deeply grateful that Sheng Quan had purchased his family¡¯s estate.


    The property had been on the market for quite some time, but buyers were scarce.


    This wasn¡¯t surprising. Most wealthy individuals preferred homes they had designed and built themselves. And those who could afford properties worth billions usually already had private residences. Why spend that much on an existing mansion when they could just buy land and construct their own?


    On top of that, the Zheng family had insisted on a full cash payment. These days, how many people could lay their hands on billions in liquid assets?


    Yet selling at a steep discount would have meant taking a massive loss. After all, the mansion had been painstakingly designed, with every detail meticulously planned.


    It boasted four large swimming pools, three garages, entertainment rooms, a wine cellar, a grand library, a greenhouse, a spa and sauna, and even a private helipad.


    So, of course, it also had a massive ornamental pond that doubled as a fishing spot.


    As she looked around, Sheng Quan realized the only thing missing was an old butler who would tearfully say, "The young miss hasn¡¯t been this happy in so long."


    But that trope wouldn¡¯t apply to her¡ªbecause she was happy every single day.


    Who wouldn¡¯t be overjoyed owning a place this magnificent? It was absolutely exhilarating!


    Her earlier quip about "being able to ride horses" here wasn¡¯t an exaggeration either. As they toured the grounds, she spotted a stable in the distance, currently housing two "thoroughbred" ponies.


    To be honest, it was Sheng Quan¡¯s first time seeing live ponies up close. After Zheng Gong enthusiastically explained their lineage¡ªhow their parents had competed in prestigious races and were renowned in the equestrian world¡ªshe gazed at the two beautiful, gentle creatures with their big, dark, soulful eyes and couldn¡¯t help but show interest.


    "Perfect timing¡ªI¡¯ve been meaning to learn horseback riding."


    Zheng ?????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????Gong didn¡¯t question why Sheng Quan didn¡¯t already know how to ride, nor did he make any snide remarks like, "How can a wealthy heiress like you not know basic horsemanship?"


    Newly rich individuals might obsess over this or that etiquette, but those who were truly wealthy rarely cared about such things.


    To put it bluntly, they no longer needed to cater to anyone¡¯s expectations. They lived exactly as they pleased. Even if they walked around in a T-shirt, shorts, and flip-flops, people would praise them for being refreshingly unpretentious.


    So when Sheng Quan expressed her fondness for the two ponies, Zheng Gong immediately smiled and said,


    "They¡¯re still young and not easy to transport, which is why we left them behind. If Chairwoman Sheng likes them, please take them as a gift. At this age, they¡¯re perfect for bonding with their new owner."


    "Oh, I couldn¡¯t possibly accept them for free. Even though I don¡¯t know much about horses, just looking at them tells me they must be worth a fortune." Sheng Quan insisted on paying¡ªshe certainly had the means to, even if the money for the mansion itself had come from 006.


    Zheng Gong knew this amount was pocket change to her. Besides, though he was still wealthier than most, he wasn¡¯t as extravagantly rich as he once had been¡ªotherwise, he wouldn¡¯t have had to sell the estate.


    Unlike Sheng Quan, who could casually drop 2.5 billion without blinking. Even with her company, StarGaze, currently thriving, such liquidity was awe-inspiring.


    Back when the Zheng family had built this mansion, they¡¯d had to pour money into it bit by bit over time.


    So even though the selling price of 2.5 billion was already a bargain, Zheng Gong treated Sheng Quan with the utmost respect, personally accompanying her on the tour¡ªa clear sign of his deference.


    Sheng Quan and her group toured the entire property on a sightseeing cart (yes, the place was so big they needed a vehicle to get around), inspecting every building and facility.


    The more she saw, the more delighted she became.


    It was as if the mansion had been tailor-made for her tastes¡ªdown to the private cinema, which rivaled a commercial theater. The seats were incredibly comfortable with built-in massage functions, and there was even a dedicated area for staff outside to ensure that snacks and drinks could be delivered instantly.


    With so much space, she could even invite the entire company¡¯s executives for a movie night. The viewing experience was guaranteed to be a hundred times better than a regular theater.


    And most importantly of all¡ªthe estate came with a top-tier security system and ample rooms. A place this grand naturally required more security personnel.


    At last, she could assemble the elite bodyguard team she had always dreamed of, without any reservations.


    Sheng Quan knew none of this was a coincidence. Out of all the luxury properties for sale worldwide, how could the one in the prize pool be the one that perfectly matched her preferences in every way?


    "006, thank you," she murmured.


    ["You''re welcome, Host! 006 is happy if you''re happy!"]


    006 was indeed delighted, especially after Sheng Quan mentioned plans to take it on a movie marathon once they moved in.


    Over time, Sheng Quan noticed that 006 had its own preferences. While it still struggled to grasp many human nuances, she observed its deep admiration for excellence¡ªwhether in people or things.


    When it came to people, 006 naturally gravitated toward those who were diligent, talented, and virtuous. Any display of such qualities earned its quiet approval.


    As for objects, it adored natural landscapes. During the filming of The Cultivator and Stellar War, the crew went to great lengths to preserve and restore scenic locations, which kept 006 in high spirits for days.


    It also had a keen appreciation for films, music, and even paintings, often enjoying them alongside Sheng Quan. Despite its youthful demeanor, there was a strangely all-encompassing wisdom in how it embraced the world.


    Take now, for instance. 006 couldn¡¯t quite fathom why Sheng Quan was so taken with these facilities. To it, a cave and a villa were the same¡ªjust places to live.


    But if Sheng Quan liked them, 006 would happily procure them.


    And when it saw her joy, 006¡ªhaving secretly (or so it thought) prepared for this moment¡ªwould bask in its own quiet satisfaction.


    Of course, even with everything ready, Sheng Quan couldn¡¯t just waltz in with her entourage of bodyguards.


    First, she faced a pressing issue: hiring staff.


    A place this size was beyond the capacity of her two housekeepers.


    And unlike the all-powerful CEOs in romance novels, she couldn¡¯t just dump the task on her overworked assistants.


    Even if they were willing¡ªlured by overtime pay¡ªit wasn¡¯t their expertise. Recruitment was HR¡¯s job, but involving the company¡¯s HR department would blur the line between personal and professional matters.


    Besides, new hires would need a manager.


    Not one to fuss over such details, Sheng Quan turned to the estate¡¯s previous owner, Zheng Gong.


    Zheng Gong eagerly explained that affluent households typically employed private butlers¡ªprofessionally trained, highly paid, and exceptionally capable. A reliable butler could handle all domestic affairs, leaving the owner free of trivial worries.


    "Some are local, others foreign¡ªforeign butlers are more in vogue these days," he added.


    "Just outline your requirements, Madam Sheng, and they¡¯ll arrange everything. These butlers usually stay for life, so once you¡¯ve chosen, it¡¯s a permanent arrangement."


    Sheng Quan: So the ''loyal family butler'' trope is real...


    Art truly imitated life.


    Despite her earlier skepticism, Sheng Quan recognized the need for a butler and promptly asked Zheng Gong to make introductions.


    While this was a straightforward transaction, Zheng Gong saw it as an opportunity to cultivate ties with the young tycoon¡ªespecially since it cost him little effort.


    He swiftly provided the contact details of a reputable agency.


    Sheng Quan wasn¡¯t overly concerned. Wealth had a way of smoothing obstacles, and if this agency didn¡¯t work out, she could always try another.


    A call later, the agency assured her in soothing tones that they¡¯d handpick the perfect candidate.


    Their service was impeccable¡ªno intrusive questions, just a swift presentation of meticulously curated profiles, each introduced with patience and care.


    But lately, Sheng Quan had been engrossed in her private theater and had little patience for decision-making. Yu Xiangwan volunteered to take over.


    Despite the rising heat, the impeccably groomed young man remained cool and composed. Behind his gold-rimmed glasses, his eyes crinkled warmly.


    "I know your tastes well, and I¡¯m familiar with the estate¡¯s needs. Let me handle this for you."


    Yu Xiangwan lowkey regretted not being able to apply for the butler position himself.


    Compared to his roles as company VP and the all-powerful production supervisor on set, he¡¯d much rather stay by Sheng Quan¡¯s side.


    But after some soul-searching, even he had to admit that his skills were more useful elsewhere. Reluctantly, he gave up on self-nominating.


    Sheng Quan hesitated. "Won¡¯t this cut into your vacation?"


    "Not at all." His smile was gentle. "Helping you is my pleasure."


    ...Yeah, that sounds like him.


    She relented. "Then I¡¯ll leave it to you. You¡¯ve never let me down."


    The praise softened Yu Xiangwan¡¯s usually composed expression. Adjusting his glasses, his demeanor turned almost as affectionate as the mechanical pup nuzzling Sheng Quan¡¯s side.


    "Rest assured, I¡¯ll find a butler worthy of you."


    "I trust you. Go ahead."


    Nodding, Sheng Quan turned to survey her sprawling garden and the helicopter parked on the distant landing pad. The whole scene screamed romance-novel billionaire lifestyle.


    All that was missing was the quintessential family butler.


    Two weeks later.


    Sheng Quan slowly set down her boba tea as Yu Xiangwan presented his choice.


    "This is... the butler you found?"


    The tall young man in a tailored tailcoat bowed gracefully before lifting his gaze. Beneath his dark hair, clear blue eyes curved in a smile before respectfully lowering again.


    Sheng Quan: "..."


    The strikingly handsome yet unassuming man before her dipped his head, as if pledging fealty.


    "An honor to meet you, Madam."


    "I am Evan, your personal butler."

 Chapter 81

    Yu Xiangwan, this guy...


    Sheng Quan took another sip of her milk tea, her expression calm, but inwardly she thought, If this were ancient times, he¡¯d definitely be a scheming courtier.


    She didn¡¯t think she¡¯d been that obvious¡ªhow did he know she liked this type?


    Though his intention certainly wasn¡¯t to flatter, she had to admit, Sheng Quan was thoroughly charmed.


    This Evan was just too good-looking.


    Not only was he handsome, but there was also an innate elegance in his every movement, making him a sheer delight to watch.


    And above all, he was incredibly reliable.


    "The reason I chose him is because his family comes from a long line of professional butlers. Of course, his price is also the highest tier¡ªonce confirmed, he¡¯ll serve for life."


    Yu Xiangwan hadn¡¯t just picked Evan for his looks. He understood Sheng Quan well. While she did appreciate attractive people, when it came to work, she valued competence more.


    And though Sheng Quan hadn¡¯t explicitly asked for it, Yu Xiangwan believed that Director Sheng deserved a butler who excelled in both ability and appearance.


    Honestly, his judgment was spot-on.


    Just lying in the garden, basking in the sun while watching the beautiful butler calmly and methodically direct the staff into action made Sheng Quan feel like her eyes were being treated to something refreshing and soothing.


    Evan truly lived up to being Yu Xiangwan¡¯s meticulously selected elite private butler. Since his arrival, even though nothing had drastically changed, Sheng Quan found her life significantly more comfortable.


    For example, when she used to swim in the pool, she¡¯d sometimes crave dessert afterward. Before, she¡¯d have to call for it herself, but within just a week, Evan had perfectly pinpointed the exact moments she¡¯d want a sweet treat.


    And that wasn¡¯t all. Outfit coordination, party planning, decorating spaces to match her aesthetic, arranging her private schedule¡ªeverything became flawlessly organized once the private butler was in place.


    Frankly, it was amazing.


    Individually, these things might seem trivial. Take picking outfits for banquets, for instance. As her companies grew, the number of events she had to attend increased.


    When she was in a good mood, she didn¡¯t mind taking her time selecting clothes, shoes, and accessories. But doing it every single time was exhausting. She couldn¡¯t possibly visit boutiques for last-minute purchases every time.


    Even if she had the money, why waste the time?


    But with Evan around, everything changed. Not only was he strikingly handsome, but his taste was impeccable. Though his own outfits might look similar at a glance, the subtle details were always different¡ªnever overpowering, yet always pleasing to the eye.


    He didn¡¯t just dress well himself; he was also a master at styling others, likely due to professional training.


    With Sheng Quan¡¯s permission, he¡¯d prepare three outfit options daily, tailored to her next day¡¯s engagements. Nearly every set perfectly suited the occasion¡ªand matched her personal preferences.


    Sheng Quan didn¡¯t own an excessive amount of jewelry, as she disliked heavy accessories. Hers were all delicate and refined, yet Evan always knew exactly how to place them for maximum effect.


    Once, she accidentally broke a bracelet. It wasn¡¯t a big deal¡ªjust meant she had to switch accessories while it was being repaired.


    But Evan, who happened to be handing her a bag at the time, smiled and took it from her.


    "Leave it to me."


    He stepped out briefly and returned with the bracelet looking as good as new.


    Only later did Sheng Quan learn that Evan had set up a repair kit for clothes, shoes, and accessories the day after moving in¡ªjust to handle situations like this.


    So she¡¯d never have to deal with the frustration of "I really wanted to wear this, but now it¡¯s broken and ruined my mood."


    A small thing, but only Sheng Quan could truly appreciate how satisfying it was.


    No wonder Director Zheng said everyone loved having a private butler.


    Sheng Quan was absolutely obsessed with this feeling.


    Who wouldn¡¯t adore having someone who silently took care of every tedious little detail, appearing with a breathtakingly beautiful smile the moment she needed something, effortlessly providing exactly what she wanted?


    Especially since Evan had impeccable judgment. Without being told, he instinctively knew what was appropriate and what wasn¡¯t, executing everything to perfection within the boundaries Sheng Quan set.


    He¡¯d even introduced a flock of birds to the garden downstairs¡ªall small, visually stunning creatures with melodious songs. Their main purpose? To wake Sheng Quan each morning with soothing, pleasant chirps.


    Fresh, fragrant flower arrangements always adorned her tables, whether in the dining room or study, arranged just right. She never had to worry about weather or traffic when heading out, and all her personal errands were handled flawlessly.


    Sheng Quan didn¡¯t miss the "old butler" at all. Even if Evan had one tiny flaw, it was negligible. The moment his probationary period ended, she officially confirmed his position.


    When she made the decision, even the usually composed Evan couldn¡¯t hide his delight. His elegant, handsome face seemed to glow even brighter than usual.


    "Thank you for your trust. I swear I¡¯ll serve you faithfully, devoting my entire life to you."


    Evan lifted his gaze, his clear blue eyes filled with sincerity and determination. "I won¡¯t let you down."


    Sheng Quan: "...It¡¯s care, not serve."


    "And it¡¯s serve me for life¡ªnever mind, just keep working on your Mandarin."


    Yes, this was Evan¡¯s one "tiny flaw." As a native Italian, he could speak Mandarin, but not fluently, occasionally mixing up phrases.


    But it wasn¡¯t a big deal. Hadn¡¯t he already proven he could manage everything flawlessly?


    Though it was just a probationary period, Evan had clearly been working hard to improve his Mandarin, making rapid progress. His pronunciation was now impeccable, even if he still occasionally slipped up on phrasing.


    "Understood."


    Evan¡¯s eyes still sparkled slightly.


    In this day and age, private butlers were nearly obsolete. Even among those willing to hire one, few wanted lifelong service.


    For Evan, raised in a family of butlers with the singular goal of dedicating himself to one "master," Sheng Quan¡¯s approval meant everything.


    Yet despite his joy, it didn¡¯t affect his work. He remained as dependable as ever, effortlessly handling every detail¡ªthough now, when facing Sheng Quan, there was an added warmth of fierce loyalty.


    Clearly, his goal was genuine: to serve Sheng Quan for life.


    And as the one being served, Sheng Quan was more than happy with that.


    She was currently learning to ride a horse, seated atop the saddle as she took the towel Evan handed her to wipe away her sweat. Listening to his report in flawless Mandarin, she heard him say:


    "The Fangcheng Tourism Bureau called to ask if you¡¯d attend tomorrow¡¯s offline event for Stellar Wars."


    "Fangcheng? Politely decline. Pass this on to Producer Yu Xiangwan and see which StarGlow actor would be willing to attend."


    During the filming of Stellar Wars, the crew had visited many cities. Since the plot depicted Earth¡¯s transformed landscape thousands of years in the future¡ªalong with the bizarre natural scenery of other planets¡ªthere was a scene where the protagonist, Gulai, was awestruck by the untouched beauty of nature from three millennia ago.


    Lush forests, snow-capped mountains, waterfalls¡ªthe production team sought out the most remote locations possible.


    As a result, when Stellar Wars became a massive hit, these filming sites naturally turned into "must-visit destinations," drawing countless domestic and international fans.


    Established tourist spots handled the influx just fine, but smaller, economically struggling cities in remote areas were overjoyed.


    Whenever the movie held promotional events, these cities would invariably extend invitations to Sheng Quan¡ªafter all, everyone knew she was the powerhouse behind Stellar Wars.


    Fangcheng was one such small city. Their scenery was stunning, but so were countless other places across the country. Competition was fierce, and previous attempts to boost tourism had failed.


    Then, out of nowhere, they hit the jackpot¡ªmany of Stellar Wars¡¯ most iconic scenes were filmed in Fangcheng.


    The local management bureau, which had approved the crew¡¯s access to the scenic areas, was now basking in their foresight.


    Especially the bureau director. Back then, their scenic spot had little reputation, so when the crew applied to film and even requested minor landscape restorations, everyone hesitated.


    What if the production team was careless, leaving behind trash and damaged scenery? Who would they complain to then?


    In the end, the director and his team specifically checked the filming sites of The Cultivator and confirmed that StarGlow Entertainment¡¯s crews were disciplined¡ªno littering or reckless behavior. Only then did they agree.


    Their initial hesitation had turned into sheer relief.


    Moreover, since the collaboration had gone smoothly, Sheng Quan was accommodating. After the movie¡¯s success, when the tourism bureau made a small request, she agreed to host an offline event to attract more visitors.


    It was a win-win. Plus, after the film¡¯s release, Sheng Quan¡ªwho loved visiting filming locations for photos¡ªhad already toured all the sites.


    Fangcheng, though small, was breathtakingly beautiful. The local government maintained the scenic areas and natural landscapes meticulously, and the residents Sheng Quan met were warm and genuine. The only downside was the challenging terrain, making other industries difficult to develop.


    Just thinking about Fangcheng¡¯s picturesque scenery made Sheng Quan¡¯s heart stir again.


    She didn¡¯t have much going on lately. Maybe she should just...


    And no, don¡¯t ask why she could leave on a whim¡ªshe was the chairwoman. She didn¡¯t need to clock in, and the money kept rolling in.


    Sheng Quan asked, "Have the hotels and everything else been set up there?"


    Her last visit had been too early. Fangcheng¡¯s largest hotel was far from the scenic area, and the mountain roads made the commute exhausting¡ªbumpy and rough.


    "Seven hotels have already opened near the scenic area, with more under renovation. All surrounding roads have been repaired," Evan replied, clearly well-prepared.


    Sheng Quan was surprised. "That fast?"


    "After ?????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????the movie¡¯s release, Fangcheng¡¯s tourist numbers kept rising. Some variety shows even filmed there, so the development has been..." Evan paused, searching for the right word, "rapidly evolving."


    Sheng Quan laughed. "You¡¯re learning fast¡ªalready using idioms."


    Pleased by the praise, Evan smiled faintly.


    Jiang Lu, who was holding the horse steady, asked, "Are you going?"


    "Yes. It¡¯s been a while since I traveled. A change of scenery would be nice."


    Besides, she could now bind new beneficiaries again. But this time, the task wasn¡¯t as simple as a single binding. Probably because her career progress had surpassed 10%, the conditions had loosened significantly.


    However, this time, there was no direct cash reward.


    Though Sheng Quan had been in high spirits since Evan arrived, she still fretted over this mission¡ªnot because it was undoable, but because she wanted to maximize the benefits.


    With Jiang Lu¡¯s help, she dismounted and patted the adult horse¡¯s head. Taking the horse treats Evan handed her, she spent some time bonding with it before having it led back to the stable.


    Jiang Lu, rarely one to offer praise, said, "You¡¯re learning quickly."


    Indeed, Sheng Quan hadn¡¯t hired a riding instructor¡ªbecause Jiang Lu, of all people, knew how to ride.


    Then again, considering he could even pilot a helicopter, horseback riding wasn¡¯t that surprising.


    Though he never mentioned it, Sheng Quan knew Jiang Lu was also well-versed in firearms. No wonder she felt so much safer with him during her trip to Country K.


    "That¡¯s also thanks to your thorough teaching, Brother Jiang. We¡¯ll continue after the trip¡ªtime for a little adventure first."


    Sheng Quan was still mulling over the lottery.


    [006, repeat the mission details. I need to strategize.]


    The mechanical voice of 006 responded promptly: [This mission offers no monetary support, but the host may bind multiple targets. You may designate one piece of fixed asset currently on sale, which the system will purchase in full.]


    [Value: No less than 1.5 billion, no more than 3 billion.]

 Chapter 82

    Just like the previous "online use limit of one billion," this mission also exceeded the conventional funding amount, starting with a maximum cap of three billion.


    Moreover, the restrictions on beneficiaries were relaxed, allowing investments in multiple individuals, which meant the potential for higher returns than before¡ªwealth and prosperity seemed within reach.


    However, the stipulation that the funds "could only be used for fixed asset purchases" did stump Sheng Quan.


    Finding fixed assets currently on the market wasn¡¯t difficult¡ªa building counted as a fixed asset, as did various types of equipment, and even books qualified. But finding assets worth over 1.5 billion? That was another story.


    Fixed assets of such high value were rarely sold unless the owner was operating at a loss.


    She could certainly buy a building, but one mustn¡¯t forget that the mission funds could only be used for beneficiaries¡ªand only those with impeccable character. Purchasing a building was easy, but what came after?


    If she really wanted to scrape by, she could technically complete the mission.


    But with such a rare opportunity¡ªone with "almost no restrictions and the potential for massive returns"¡ªSheng Quan wasn¡¯t about to settle for just barely passing.


    After Interstellar War, Starlight Entertainment entered another phase of rapid expansion. With a new batch of artists onboard, the company was now in a high-investment period, pouring vast sums into new projects and waiting for returns, whether sooner or later.


    In the near future, Starlight Entertainment was bound to enter a quieter phase.


    But Sheng Quan didn¡¯t want it to go quiet.


    She flipped through the fixed asset data on her tablet, then checked the trending searches from the past five years that her assistant had compiled¡ªand spotted quite a few familiar names.


    A quick search revealed that, while she hadn¡¯t deliberately altered these people¡¯s fates, the growing success of Starlight Entertainment had positively influenced many characters from the original novel in one way or another.


    The Road of Life, The Cultivator, and Interstellar War were just the three most outstanding productions from the past two years¡ªStarlight Entertainment had invested in countless other films and TV series.


    Thanks to Sheng Quan¡¯s influence, whether the productions were big or small, they all maintained a principled approach. After all, everyone knew the boss despised "under-the-table deals," and Starlight Entertainment was entirely her domain.


    From top to bottom, the company executed Chairman Sheng¡¯s vision with absolute precision.


    ¡ªStarlight Entertainment prioritized talent in casting.


    This rule, mocked as "pretentious" when the company was first established, had been steadfastly upheld, becoming a lifeline for many skilled but unconnected artists.


    It had to be said¡ªStarlight Entertainment had spoiled its audience.


    There had been companies producing high-quality dramas before, but quality meant high investment, and unlike cheaper productions, returns weren¡¯t immediate, often dragging down studios mid-production.


    Yet Starlight Entertainment scattered money here and there, not only avoiding financial ruin but actually reaping substantial rewards.


    Add to that the sweeping reforms at the established firm Bluebird under Chairman Xie Wanzhao¡¯s direction.


    Even the smaller companies that had once operated without restraint were now behaving more cautiously. Before, when everyone churned out subpar shows, audiences might complain, but they still watched. Now, with Starlight and Bluebird setting the standard, things were different.


    In just two years, while other aspects of the industry might not have improved, the atmosphere among actors had undeniably shifted for the better.


    If the entertainment world had once offered only sporadic opportunities for talented actors, the past two years had seen chances raining down like a meteor shower.


    As long as they were willing to reach out, they could grab one or two.


    Among the "familiar faces" Sheng Quan recognized from the original novel, not all had achieved stardom, but none were as stifled as they had been in the story.


    After reviewing all this, Sheng Quan was in a good mood.


    Even the minor characters who had only briefly appeared in the book were now living new, hardworking, upwardly mobile lives¡ªthanks to the ripple effects she¡¯d set in motion. It felt pretty great.


    After disembarking the plane and stepping outside, Jiang Lu subtly moved to shield Sheng Quan. "There are reporters."


    Sheng Quan was puzzled. "Reporters? Here for me?"


    That didn¡¯t make sense. While she was well-known, she wasn¡¯t a celebrity who frequently appeared in the spotlight. Plus, in Shanghai, she usually traveled by private helicopter. With no scandals to chase and no way to keep up with her transport, paparazzi had little interest in her.


    She had clout, but she was also a homebody. Reporters had staked her out before, only to find that Sheng Quan spent weeks binge-watching shows at home. After two months of waiting, they¡¯d only caught her leaving once¡ªfor a major event already swarming with media.


    The time investment versus payoff just wasn¡¯t worth it, so gradually, no one bothered stalking Sheng Quan anymore.


    At most, during major news events, journalists might try to corner her for an interview. Under normal circumstances, Chairman Sheng¡¯s surroundings were paparazzi-free.


    Especially for a low-profile event like this that wouldn¡¯t even make trending searches.


    Sheng Quan assumed they were here for someone else. She turned to her assistant. "Any public figures visiting Fangcheng today?"


    The tall, striking assistant with an air of cool elegance answered immediately:


    "A variety show, Happy Travels, is filming in Fangcheng and will cross-promote with our Interstellar War event here. Their crew is arriving today¡ªthese people are probably waiting for them."


    Her professionalism was evident. Who would¡¯ve guessed her actual job was bodyguard?


    That¡¯s right¡ªthis assistant, He Xi, had been selected from the top tier of Starlight Security¡¯s trainees.


    Originally, her assistant role was just a cover, meant to operate discreetly. After all, when people thought of bodyguards, they pictured burly men in suits, not the elegant woman beside Sheng Quan.


    Even Sheng Quan hadn¡¯t expected He Xi, a former soldier, to excel at assistant work. But He Xi approached it with military discipline¡ªstudying the methods of Sheng Quan¡¯s other assistants and painstakingly learning the ins and outs of the entertainment industry.


    Most people around Sheng Quan pursued additional training, and He Xi followed suit, enrolling in courses during her time off. Among the elite trainees, she stood out as exceptional¡ªa pleasant surprise.


    Ninety-nine percent of Starlight Security¡¯s trainees weren¡¯t afraid of hard work, but it depended on the type of hardship. Many would rather run grueling obstacle courses than sit down and tackle dense, difficult study material.


    The grind of studying was something only those who¡¯d pushed themselves to the limit could truly understand.


    He Xi was one of those people¡ªrelentlessly improving herself while never neglecting her primary duty as a bodyguard.


    In just over a year, she had transformed from "one of the top-selected trainees" to "the most trusted assistant by Chairman Sheng."


    Sheng Quan genuinely liked He Xi¡ªwhat boss wouldn¡¯t appreciate a hardworking subordinate? Even her penny-pinching employer from her past life, who was reluctant to pay overtime, had still tried to curry favor with her in various ways.


    Having experienced the frustration of "effort misplaced," Sheng Quan gradually increased He Xi¡¯s salary and bonuses as her responsibilities expanded.


    And so, He Xi became even more motivated. The way she effortlessly recited program details showed just how meticulously she tracked every aspect of Sheng Quan¡¯s schedule:


    "This show is a large-scale travel experience program produced by Golden Orange TV. The guests are mostly public figures with fame and fanbases, and its popularity ranks 15th nationally among variety shows. One of this episode¡¯s guests is Lin Qing, an artist from our Starlight Entertainment."


    Sheng Quan didn¡¯t really recall him. Starlight Entertainment now had so many artists that she couldn¡¯t possibly remember every new signee¡¯s name like she used to:


    "Lin Qing... wasn¡¯t he a child star?"


    "Yes, Lin Qing¡¯s contract with Wuhua Entertainment expired three months ago, and he signed with Starlight Entertainment. His agent is Zhu Ying."


    Sheng Quan thought He Xi was truly embodying the role of an all-purpose assistant now. With so many people in the company, she even remembered the former agency of a relatively unknown artist like Lin Qing¡ªclearly, she was always prepared for Sheng Quan¡¯s questions.


    Who would¡¯ve thought that when she first started, she didn¡¯t even know the leads of popular dramas?


    Chairman Sheng couldn¡¯t help but glance admiringly at her capable, striking, and beautiful bodyguard-slash-assistant:


    "Starting this month, your salary will increase by another five percent."


    A flicker of surprise and delight crossed He Xi¡¯s coolly elegant face. She had just gotten a raise three months ago¡ªanother five percent would nearly match the salary of a senior executive assistant.


    Even if Sheng Quan no longer needed her one day, this level of experience would secure her a high-ranking position at Starlight Entertainment.


    "Thank you, Chairman Sheng."


    Outside work hours, He Xi wasn¡¯t much of a talker. No matter how grateful she felt, she couldn¡¯t put it into words, so she channeled her excitement into action, resolving to work even harder.


    Sheng Quan didn¡¯t have much of an impression of the show Happy Travels. Since moving into her new home, her entertainment had been limited to movies and TV dramas.


    She rarely watched variety shows, mainly because nearly every popular one featured someone she knew. Acting was one thing, but these semi-scripted, pseudo-real-life performances were too jarring.


    She still remembered accidentally stumbling onto one show where Lin Aike was frantically cooking, only for the pot lid to go flying¡ªit nearly killed her with laughter, and she immediately messaged Lin Aike to tease her about it.


    Not keen on drawing attention, Sheng Quan adjusted her hat when she noticed the reporters with their cameras hadn¡¯t spotted her yet. "Let¡¯s go."


    Unfortunately, while Chairman Sheng herself was low-key, her entourage of bodyguards was anything but.


    The moment they moved, a dozen tall, broad-shouldered, narrow-waisted bodyguards flanked her, drawing stares from passersby¡ªlet alone the paparazzi, who were already camped out at the airport, hypersensitive to any potential scoop.


    "Who¡¯s that? The show¡¯s guests aren¡¯t supposed to come out for another three minutes. Did they arrive early? But there¡¯s no camera crew with them."


    The paparazzi and freelance photographers instantly perked up.


    One adjusted his cap. "Bro, I smell a trending topic."


    "Smell my ass¡ªjust figure out who it is!"


    They didn¡¯t need to run over. Zooming in with their cameras, they caught glimpses of a young woman shielded tightly by bodyguards:


    "Holy shit! It¡¯s Sheng Quan! What¡¯s she doing here?!"


    "Sheng Quan?!!"


    "Move, move! Get closer and snap some shots! See if we can squeeze out a quote!"


    "Bro, what about the variety show?"


    "That show isn¡¯t going anywhere, and this episode¡¯s guests aren¡¯t even A-listers. We can always catch them filming later. But Sheng Quan? Every time she shows up, it¡¯s big news. We actually lucked out this time!"


    Clearly, many other paparazzi and freelancers shared the same thought. Happy Travels wasn¡¯t unpopular, but it wasn¡¯t a smash hit either, and this episode¡¯s lineup wasn¡¯t particularly buzzworthy. Since their targets¡¯ schedules were easy to track, they had no qualms about ditching the show for Sheng Quan.


    After being photographed so often, Sheng Quan had grown accustomed to it. They could snap away¡ªshe¡¯d just keep walking.


    Headlines like "Freelance Photographers Run Wild" or "Paparazzi Relentlessly Pursue" never applied to her.


    These ethically questionable folks knew how to pick their battles.


    Sheng Quan wasn¡¯t some fame-reliant minor celebrity¡ªshe was the chairwoman of Starlight Entertainment, a company steadily rising in prominence, with countless industry connections. Even major media outlets treated her with respect, let alone tabloid reporters.


    She might not own any media outlets herself, but who knew how many influential people she knew? One wrong move, one annoyed word from her, and they could lose their jobs.


    This caution extended to Starlight¡¯s artists as well. The company was notorious for its deep pockets and fierce protection of its talent.


    Take that one incident: A relatively unknown actress, newly signed, was harassed by a veteran actor on set. She slapped him, and the scene turned ugly.


    For a well-known artist, company backing would be expected. But for a fresh face, most agencies wouldn¡¯t go to war over such a "minor" issue¡ªthey¡¯d just send a manager to smooth things over.


    Starlight, however, stood firmly behind the actress. They pulled surveillance footage, gathered evidence, and immediately filed a lawsuit once the facts were confirmed.


    The legal outcome might not have landed the old actor in jail, but Starlight made it clear: none of their projects would work with him again. Other companies followed suit.


    The actor had been somewhat famous, always targeting newcomers¡ªthose too timid, too obscure, and too powerless to fight back¡ªbecause he knew most agencies wouldn¡¯t bother protecting them.


    And then he kicked an iron plate.


    Going to such lengths for an unknown newbie? Starlight¡¯s young chairwoman clearly wasn¡¯t as mild-mannered as she seemed.


    Funny enough, before this incident, Starlight¡¯s artists still faced some shameless freelance photographers. Afterward? Those same photographers suddenly became very, very well-behaved.


    And when it came to Sheng Quan? That restraint multiplied tenfold.


    They maintained a perfectly measured distance, taking photos without disturbing Sheng Quan. A few people tried to ask questions, but after receiving no response, they didn¡¯t dare press further.


    Surrounded by her tall, long-legged bodyguards, Sheng Quan moved smoothly forward. Just as she was about to reach the elevator, a voice filled with pure hatred suddenly rang out:


    "Tan Chen!!! Go die!!!"


    Even though it clearly wasn¡¯t directed at Sheng Quan, the sheer venom in the tone instantly put her security team on high alert. The elevator doors opened, and Sheng Quan stepped inside. From her vantage point, she could see a group of people exiting ahead¡ªstaff members, cameras, and a few strikingly good-looking young men and women in the distance.


    This must be that travel variety show.


    Tan Chen... the name sounded vaguely familiar.


    Just before the elevator doors closed, Sheng Quan caught sight of two people hurling vegetables at a man while screaming obscenities. Between their furious ranting, they spat out a string of other names:


    "Chen Mo! Zhou Ke! Bai Xiangyuan!"¡ªand more she couldn¡¯t quite catch. But their verbal assault was impressively rapid, managing to curse out seven people in half a minute:


    "How dare you disgrace us like this?! Losing in a competition like that!"


    "You¡¯ve humiliated China!! Do you even know how foreigners are mocking us?!"


    "Bai Xiangyuan! Don¡¯t you dare hide! It was your mistake!! And you call yourself the ¡®Best Bottom Laner¡¯? Disgusting! Just retire already! Tan Chen! Move! I¡¯m not even done with you yet!"


    Their main targets clearly weren¡¯t Tan Chen, but since he stood in front, he bore the brunt of another round of insults.


    And vegetable projectiles.


    ¡ªAirport security checks meant they couldn¡¯t have brought anything truly dangerous inside.


    Still, Sheng Quan had only ever seen vegetable-throwing in TV dramas before.


    The ?????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????scene was almost comical¡ªtwo people yelling while pelting greens¡ªbut the recipient probably wasn¡¯t amused. Yet when she looked over, he seemed surprisingly unbothered.


    He couldn¡¯t have been thirty yet, but his demeanor carried a quiet maturity. Unlike the show¡¯s guests, he wasn¡¯t wearing the program¡¯s uniform. Tall and lean, he shielded a group of teenagers¡ªlikely no older than seventeen or eighteen¡ªbehind him. His sharp, handsome features only accentuated his composed presence.


    While the young guests behind him wore expressions of anger and indignation, Tan Chen remained almost eerily calm.


    A vegetable smacked against his face. Even if it was just a leaf, the force would¡¯ve stung. He merely frowned slightly, raising a hand to stop one of the teenagers from lunging forward.


    With slender fingers, he plucked the vegetable off and casually unfolded a collapsible bag from his pocket, dropping it inside. His well-shaped lips moved.


    Sheng Quan couldn¡¯t hear him, but judging by his lip movements and the way the two haters instantly turned apoplectic, her expert gossip radar pieced it together:


    "Thanks."


    "Saved me a trip to the grocery store."

 Chapter 83

    Sheng Quan stepped out of the airport, her mind still lingering on the name Tan Chen, which sounded so familiar.


    Over the past two years, there had been no mention of him in trending searches or major news outlets¡ªmeaning he must be from the original novel.


    Whether it was due to the transmigration or the fact that she had become a few years younger, Sheng Quan noticed her memory had improved significantly compared to her past life. Learning new things came to her with remarkable ease now.


    The plot of the original novel, which she had mentally revisited countless times before, was now practically engraved in her memory.


    Soon, she recalled the description related to Tan Chen.


    It was about a celebrity who participated in an esports competition. Since they weren¡¯t a professional player, many esports fans accused them of disrespecting the profession, while others claimed it marked the decline of Chinese esports.


    Backstage, the celebrity, who was also an esports fan, self-deprecatingly remarked:


    "Decline? It¡¯s been downhill since Tan Chen died¡ªwhat difference does my participation make?"


    Their agent, also an esports enthusiast, chimed in:


    "Honestly, esports was already in decline before Tan Chen passed. He just forced a last-ditch effort to keep it afloat, giving it one final push."


    The novel briefly explained that Tan Chen had once been the ace player of DE, China¡¯s largest esports club. He led his teammates to countless victories, securing numerous domestic and international awards for DE.


    His era was filled with many other esports prodigies, a time hailed as the golden age of Chinese esports. But as with all peaks, a fall inevitably followed. One by one, these talents succumbed to injuries and retired.


    Tan Chen¡¯s departure from DE was far from amicable, though the book didn¡¯t elaborate on the specifics. It only mentioned that, as Chinese esports continued to decline, he formed a new team from scratch. He personally trained them, guiding them all the way to the top.


    In the end, this small, battered team¡ªsomehow managing to defy all odds¡ªmade it to the [Polaris] Global Finals, the most prestigious and highest-stakes tournament in esports.


    At that moment, esports fans erupted in celebration, convinced that China¡¯s golden age would return.


    Instead, they received news of Tan Chen¡¯s death¡ªhe had already transitioned into a coaching role by then.


    After that, the team he had painstakingly built, now without its pillar, lost its former glory. It struggled on for over a year before finally disbanding.


    Sheng Quan wasn¡¯t well-versed in esports. In her past life as an overworked office drone, she hadn¡¯t developed a habit of gaming beyond casual puzzle games like Candy Crush¡ªsomething simple to unwind with while letting her mind wander.


    After arriving in this world, she found more than enough joy in the endless stream of high-quality films and TV shows, so she never fell into the gaming rabbit hole.


    She was still waiting for full-dive VR anyway.


    The esports scene in this world was quite different from what she remembered in her past life. For one, she had never seen players wearing VR headsets back then¡ªthough she had to admit, the gear here looked pretty cool.


    The history of esports in this world also seemed to diverge significantly from her own. The very mention of "decline" suggested it had once reached great heights.


    As previously noted, due to historical divergences, Starlight was a world where entertainment held immense importance. People prioritized mental relaxation and leisure, and before Sheng Quan arrived, China¡¯s film and television industry had stagnated into a lifeless pool.


    In such an environment, esports became half of China¡¯s entertainment landscape.


    The most popular game globally was [Polaris], released thirteen years ago and quickly adopted worldwide. With the rise of professional esports, countries began establishing dedicated esports clubs.


    Over [Polaris]¡¯ thirteen-year history, Chinese teams had appeared in five out of twelve global tournaments.


    However, in recent years, only one team had made it to the finals¡ªand they were swiftly eliminated.


    From what Sheng Quan gathered, four years ago had indeed been the peak of China¡¯s professional esports scene. It was an era of fierce competition, brimming with prodigious players and amassing global fanbases. Even minor clubs raked in staggering profits.


    But soon, the downsides of prioritizing profit over sustainability emerged. Chinese esports had risen rapidly on the global stage, but in their haste to dominate, clubs treated their star players as expendable resources. Relentless tournament schedules and grueling training regimens left many with career-ending injuries.


    Injuries that could have been managed early on were neglected, worsening under the clubs¡¯ short-sighted greed. Once a player¡¯s health deteriorated, they were promptly sold off during transfer windows. No amount of talent could withstand such exploitation.


    While esports careers were naturally short, they weren¡¯t supposed to last only a year or two. After this cycle of abuse, the once-thriving clubs soon faced the consequences.


    What drew fans to professional esports? Victory, of course.


    No one wanted to watch their favorite team lose endlessly, nor did they enjoy seeing a once-great squad deteriorate.


    If China had never experienced its golden era, fans might have tolerated mediocrity. But having witnessed the reign of champions, how could they accept anything less?


    As audiences dwindled, even the largest clubs struggled to stay afloat¡ªespecially since most had aggressively expanded during their heyday, leaving them with bloated, unsustainable operations.


    Over the past four years, domestic esports had faded further into obscurity, overshadowed by the resurgence of the film and television industry.


    But it wasn¡¯t that people had stopped caring¡ªrather, the media had. Sheng Quan had occasionally stumbled upon esports-related topics in past trending lists, but back then, she hadn¡¯t paid them any mind.


    One detail stood out to her: in her past life, esports clubs, teams, and even player IDs often used foreign names. But in this world, that trend didn¡¯t exist.


    Tan Chen¡¯s ID was "No Chase."


    The small club he founded was called "Breaking Waves."


    Even the major club he once played for, though named "DE," was affectionately nicknamed "Didi" by fans¡ªfew bothered with the full "DEDE." Ironically, some international teams favored Chinese-style names, possibly a lingering effect of China¡¯s former dominance.


    Perhaps it was precisely because they had once reached the summit that Chinese esports fans found the decline so unbearable.


    In a world where entertainment carried such weight, national pride in these competitions ran deep. While fans might support foreign teams casually, when global tournaments rolled around, everyone rallied behind their home country.


    In her past life, esports might have been a niche interest, with annual tournaments watched mostly by dedicated gamers.


    But here, the [Polaris] Global Championship, held every three years, was nothing short of a national spectacle¡ªthough Chinese media seemed largely indifferent to it now.


    After all, China had failed to win a single award for four consecutive years. Fans were either too disappointed to watch or immediately lashed out with insults the moment news broke, refusing to even give a like. They¡¯d rather gossip about celebrities than engage with these reports.


    Of course, there were still some mentions here and there. Sheng Quan scrolled through recent news and, sure enough, found coverage of the [Polar] competition.


    But nearly every post was flooded with hate¡ªbecause the reports were almost exclusively bad news.


    #Tianxing narrowly loses in qualifiers#


    #Shanghe team eliminated#


    #Poshui drops to second round due to tactical error#


    The last one was new, a real-time update Sheng Quan found by searching keywords. It was probably posted by the paparazzi who had just been snapping photos nearby.


    Sheng Quan found it a little odd. Hadn¡¯t she just heard those two people throwing vegetables cursing someone named Bai something from the bot lane? Why was it now being framed as a tactical error?


    But after confirming the identity of that group, she understood why they¡¯d thrown vegetables.


    Wasn¡¯t this just calling them trash?


    She glanced back. The paparazzi and freelance photographers hadn¡¯t dared to take the same elevator as Sheng Quan, but they had caught up now, trailing behind at a distance while aggressively snapping photos.


    The production crew was a chaotic sea of people, yet only a handful were actually filming. To make matters worse, two of them were anti-fans of the guests. The staff¡¯s expressions were practically strained smiles.


    Like Sing with You, most variety shows had become fiercely competitive, airing both live and recorded versions to emphasize authenticity.


    But this was too authentic¡ªgetting off the plane only to walk straight into this mess.


    Thankfully, Poshui¡¯s coach quickly stepped in to divert attention, lightening the mood with a humorous response and even voluntarily giving an interview to the paparazzi. Still, the situation remained awkward.


    Fortunately, one of the guests was skilled at smoothing things over. Deliberately looking around with exaggerated curiosity, she joked,


    ¡°What¡¯s going on? On the plane, the crew said the airport would be packed with reporters and told us to greet them warmly and stick together so we wouldn¡¯t get separated. The way they said it, I expected a huge crowd¡ªwhy are there only three of you?¡±


    One of the cameramen immediately took the hint and zoomed in on the two paparazzi and one freelance photographer.


    Paparazzi were generally less welcome than official journalists among celebrities, so they were pleasantly surprised to be engaged in casual conversation.


    The paparazzo played along, seizing the opportunity to stir up drama now that the crew was willing to interact:


    ¡°There were more people, but Sheng Quan was up ahead, so they all went to film her instead.¡±


    ¡°Chairwoman Sheng?!¡±


    The guest¡¯s shock was palpable¡ªthough whether it was genuine or for the show¡¯s sake was unclear.


    ¡°She¡¯s in Fangcheng too? Oh my god, is she still at the airport? Do I still have time to run over and ask for a photo?¡±


    Lin Qing from Starlight Entertainment also feigned surprise and excitement: ¡°Our Chairwoman Sheng is here? Where? Where?¡±


    Their coordinated reactions instantly lightened the mood, especially with Lin Qing¡¯s exaggerated ¡°Where¡¯s Chairwoman Sheng? I need to butter her up!¡± expression adding a comedic touch.


    The paparazzo helpfully added, ¡°She already left. You missed her. Ugh, I wanted to push through the crowd too, but it was too packed.¡±


    The guest sighed dramatically. ¡°Come on, what¡¯s a crowd? That¡¯s Chairwoman Sheng¡ªyou should¡¯ve fought your way through!¡±


    She looked like she¡¯d have gladly carried the camera herself if it meant getting closer.


    The assistant director peeked at the live chat, relieved to see it flooded with ¡°LOLs.¡± These days, audiences watched travel shows to unwind, not for drama. If viewers got annoyed, ratings would plummet.


    Happy Journey¡¯s popularity had already been declining¡ªhence why they couldn¡¯t afford big-name guests and had to scrape together a mismatched cast: a food show host, a minor esports team, and others. It was a hodgepodge compared to other shows airing at the same time.


    Luckily, though the guests weren¡¯t A-listers, they were cooperative. The group quickly fell into lively chatter.


    Among Poshui¡¯s team, the youngest member, Chen Mo, knew they needed screen time. Suppressing her anger, she joined in:


    ¡°Is this the same super-rich Chairwoman Sheng I¡¯m thinking of?¡±


    ¡°The very same! Ugh, what a shame. Chairwoman Sheng is practically the Midas touch of the industry¡ªanyone she notices blows up overnight. How did we just miss her?¡±


    Another guest joked, though the faint regret in his eyes seemed genuine:


    ¡°If even one of us caught her eye, this show would skyrocket overnight. Believe it or not.¡±


    Chen Mo, still young, got swept up in the sentiment and sighed. ¡°We should¡¯ve left earlier...¡±


    The assistant director internally agreed. If they¡¯d actually run into Sheng Quan, they could¡¯ve leveraged Lin Qing¡¯s connection to Starlight Entertainment for even a brief interaction. A few seconds of screen time with her would¡¯ve been gold.


    Sheng Quan herself wasn¡¯t a celebrity, so her personal fame wasn¡¯t at the level of ¡°unrivaled dominance.¡± But her company was stacked with massively popular stars.


    And here was the kicker: while fans of other agencies constantly trashed their idols¡¯ management, Starlight Entertainment¡¯s artists¡¯ fans treated Sheng Quan like royalty.


    Fans of top stars like Hua Qing and Jiang Zhen even swarmed her social media with coordinated praise, hoping to earn their favorites extra brownie points.


    So if Sheng Quan appeared on screen, her artists would trip over themselves to hype her up¡ªand their fans would go even harder. With a little promotion from the show, they¡¯d have viral material in no time.


    And they¡¯d missed it by this much.


    The assistant director groaned inwardly. If only he could rewind time and sprint off the plane straight to Sheng Quan.


    Listening to the guests banter, he couldn¡¯t help but daydream¡ªwhat if Sheng Quan did take an interest in one of them?


    ...No, no. Best not get carried away.


    ¡°Alright, let¡¯s move out,¡± he announced.


    Tan Chen, who had stepped aside for a one-on-one interview with a paparazzo, rejoined the group.


    Despite the earlier anti-fan attack, the young coach returned with his usual careless smirk, his laid-back demeanor exuding a hint of rebelliousness. Off-camera, he quietly reassured his players.


    The teenage team members visibly relaxed, their earlier anxiety easing under his calm presence.


    The assistant director couldn''t help but let his gaze linger on Tan Chen.


    At just 26 years old, Tan Chen was technically only an esports coach, yet his looks easily rivaled those of the celebrities in the show who relied on their faces for fame¡ªespecially his eyes, sharp and brimming with a restrained depth.


    He wasn¡¯t a guest but merely an accompanying staff member, so he wasn¡¯t wearing the uniform designated for guests. Instead, he had on a simple, ordinary white sweater, yet it somehow accentuated his effortlessly cold and aloof demeanor, making him stand out all the more.


    The more the assistant director looked at him, the more he felt a sense of delight. He nudged the photographer responsible for shooting behind-the-scenes footage:


    "Get more shots of this esports team¡¯s coach. He¡¯s incredibly photogenic."


    The photographer hesitated, "...Director, Tan Chen isn¡¯t a guest. He¡¯s just here to accompany the team."


    "Who cares why he¡¯s here? Their team¡ªwhat¡¯s it called again? Broken Water¡ªthose esports players joined a travel variety show. Do you really think it¡¯s because they love traveling? They¡¯re here because they need money and exposure."


    "Otherwise, why wouldn¡¯t they be training hard during the season? They¡¯re just broke and desperate¡ªthey might not even afford plane tickets and hotels for their next match. Just keep shooting. More screen time for their team, and they¡¯ll thank us for it."


    The photographer suddenly understood and nodded repeatedly, sighing as he watched Tan Chen speaking quietly with his teammates in the distance:


    "Back then, he was unstoppable¡ªwon the world championship at 18, dominated solo rankings for over a year. The prize money from his matches should¡¯ve been substantial. Who¡¯d have thought he¡¯d end up like this..."


    The assistant director frowned, "What do you mean ¡®end up like this¡¯? Are you saying appearing on our show is some kind of downfall?"


    "...Director, I think we need some reshoots later. I¡¯ll get to it!"


    Meanwhile, Tan Chen, unaware of their conversation, had already reassured his teammates. Moving through the production crew, he carried his own heavy backpack and even helped other staff members when they struggled with their loads.


    After a hectic rush, they finally boarded the bus. As a non-guest, Tan Chen was seated in the last row of a separate bus. Leaning against the window, he gazed quietly outside.


    He had always preferred window seats. Even during his time at DE, when surrounded by fans or haters, he¡¯d stubbornly choose the less-safe spot by the window.


    After matches, on the ride back, he¡¯d watch the banners and cheering crowds outside. Sometimes, a teammate sitting beside him would nudge his arm:


    ¡ª"Tan Chen, do you think we can win the finals? iCountry¡¯s CJ team is pretty strong."


    ¡ª"Why worry? We crushed them before¡ªwe¡¯ll do it again!"


    ¡ª"Hahaha, true. But damn, you¡¯re bold. I saw you arguing with that hater earlier. If Sister Yu hadn¡¯t pulled you back, you two might¡¯ve thrown hands. Aren¡¯t you afraid the coach will scold you for being so reckless?"


    ¡ª"The coach said my style is bold. I¡¯m just following orders¡ªnot just now, but forever. I won¡¯t take crap from anyone. Insult me, and I¡¯ll return the favor."


    Lost in memories, Tan Chen was jolted back when the bus suddenly stopped. "Everyone off! What¡¯s for dinner today?"


    "Boxed meals, hopefully with more meat this time. This show¡¯s so cheap¡ªno matter which city we¡¯re in, the portions are always tiny."


    A staff member noticed Tan Chen hadn¡¯t moved and asked with concern,


    "Did you get hit earlier? Are you okay? Those people went too far¡ªlosing a match is one thing, but harassing you offline?"


    "People just need an outlet. It¡¯s fine¡ªjust some vegetable leaves. No big deal."


    Tan Chen smiled dismissively, touching the reddened spot near his eye where the impact had landed. Even if it was just greens, the force had left a mark.


    He murmured softly,


    "It just stings a little."


    After checking into her hotel, Sheng Quan searched for updates about [Broken Water].


    [NoChase Admits Tactical Mistake, Vows to Improve]


    Clicking in, she was unsurprised to find a flood of hate¡ªthough this time, the vitriol was concentrated on Tan Chen, the coach responsible for strategy.


    [His character score is decent.]


    Sheng Quan analyzed to 006: [This clearly wasn¡¯t his fault, but he took the blame to shield his teammates.]


    She didn¡¯t play [Polaris], but watching commentary from streamers and scrolling through discussions made it obvious¡ªBai Xiangyuan (OneDance) had made a critical error in the match.


    Broken ?????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????Water had been dominating the chaotic team fight until OneDance, bloodlusted, chased into enemy territory and got ambushed. With their formation broken, they were picked off one by one.


    Whether from past match footage or real-life observations, Tan Chen clearly wasn¡¯t the reckless type. Otherwise, he wouldn¡¯t have responded so calmly after having vegetables thrown at his face.


    By choosing to shoulder the blame, he must¡¯ve known the consequences. In this world, esports antis were notoriously unhinged. Tan Chen stepping forward meant painting a target on himself¡ªthis time, it was vegetables; next time, who knew?


    As for his seemingly unbothered demeanor, Sheng Quan only bought it about 30%. No one enjoyed being hated, cursed at, or wished harm upon¡ªespecially not someone like Tan Chen, who¡¯d once been a celebrated prodigy. Just watching old clips revealed how brilliantly confident and unrestrained he used to be.


    She called He Xi:


    "Get me a high-end gaming setup¡ªthe best available."


    He Xi: "Of course. May I ask which game you¡¯ll be playing? I¡¯ll tailor the specs accordingly."


    Sheng Quan closed the news tab:


    "Polaris."

 Chapter 84

    "Polaris" is currently the most popular game worldwide, but there are many other equally popular games. The reason it stands out among its competitors is largely due to the official efforts to continuously enhance the player experience.


    Last year, the official release of VR goggles and full-body control consoles for professional esports was a game-changer¡ªthough prohibitively expensive for most, offering an unparalleled experience for those who could afford them. While not fully immersive like holodecks, the sensation is top-tier.


    Though the high price limits widespread adoption, these devices are a perfect fit for professional esports. Not only do players see hyper-realistic visuals, but synchronization technology also broadcasts their in-game perspective to audiences during live matches.


    At the very least, it makes watching competitions engaging even for non-gamers.


    After approval by various national Esports Alliances, major tournaments this year will debut VR technology. Rumor has it that starting from the global semifinals, the organizers will customize in-game avatars using the players'' real faces.


    In simpler terms, players'' faces will be mapped onto their in-game characters, heightening the viewing experience.


    When Sheng Quan first heard this news, her reaction was: "..."


    Even as a non-gamer, she knew most game characters were designed to be unrealistically attractive. Using real faces? That sounded absurd.


    Then she looked up the likely semifinalists from various countries.


    Suddenly, it all made sense.


    She could see the appeal now¡ªso much so that she considered buying tickets in advance.


    No wonder the organizers dared to try this. Perhaps due to esports'' early commercialization in this world, professional players from every country were strikingly good-looking¡ªat the very least, pleasantly attractive.


    Add to that the age restrictions in esports, with most players under 25, and it was no surprise fans were raving. Their youthful looks, combined with skill and intense focus during matches (even before VR goggles), made them irresistible.


    After binge-watching match recordings, Sheng Quan understood why esports had once rivaled the entertainment industry in popularity. These players were ridiculously good-looking.


    Sheng Quan, the self-proclaimed aesthetics enthusiast: "I love this world."


    She completely forgot her earlier stance of "I¡¯m not into games; I¡¯d rather wait for full immersion" and eagerly jumped into the fandom.


    Not just any casual dive¡ªSheng Quan was going all-in with the most luxurious setup.


    After researching, she grew intensely curious: Just how good was the premium "Polaris" equipment, the same gear used by pros?


    She hadn¡¯t expected to get her hands on the top-tier setup immediately. The official lineup had three tiers based on price and performance.


    Tournaments used the highest-end "3E" model. Esports clubs typically trained with mid-range "1A" or "2K" setups, while casual players found "1A" sufficient.


    Honestly, "1A" wasn¡¯t too bad¡ªjust 800,000 for a full set, a steal given the tech.


    "3E," however, was a different story. At over 5 million per set, it was daylight robbery.


    Sheng Quan¡¯s reaction to the price: "...Are they serious?"


    She started suspecting this year¡¯s VR-only tournament rule was just a ploy to push these outrageously priced devices.


    Clubs relied on competitions to build their fanbase¡ªwinning was everything. Even if they had to bleed money, they¡¯d buy VR gear to practice. Losing because they weren¡¯t used to the official equipment? Unthinkable.


    Which made Tan Chen¡¯s "Breakers" team even more impressive.


    Clearly, they couldn¡¯t afford tournament-grade gear¡ªnot "3E," maybe not even "1A." Yet they¡¯d fought their way to the finals. Respect.


    Sheng Quan¡¯s original plan was to buy a "1A" in-store and preorder a "3E" online.


    But He Xi worked miracles. Against all odds, she secured a "3E" set in their small city of Fangcheng.


    Apparently, it was the only one in town. The wealthy shop owner had bought it for personal use, but financial troubles forced him to sell.


    Problem was, no one in Fangcheng could afford it. It had been gathering dust for days.


    When a big spender finally showed up, the staff were more excited than Sheng Quan, a complete newbie.


    The owner personally supervised the installation, even offering his years¡¯ worth of gameplay guides. His enthusiasm was off the charts¡ªhe might as well have had "THANK YOU" written on his forehead.


    On his way out, he yelled, "Call us anytime! We¡¯re on standby 24/7!"


    Though Sheng Quan¡¯s face seemed vaguely familiar, she wasn¡¯t a celebrity, so he didn¡¯t dwell on it. Right now, he was too busy celebrating finally offloading that ridiculously expensive setup.


    Thank you, "Stellar War," for bringing in tourists¡ªwho knew someone would casually drop 5 million on a VR set during vacation?


    With visitor numbers soaring, his shop¡¯s sales were skyrocketing too. Rumor had it several variety shows were filming in Fangcheng¡ªmore exposure, more customers!


    He decided then and there: He¡¯d flood the internet with praise for "Stellar War" and subtly hype Fangcheng as "just as stunning as the movies, teehee!"


    Then it hit him¡ªhis VIP client was a beginner.


    "Polaris" had a steep learning curve. What if she tried it once, got frustrated, and demanded a refund?


    Panicking, he texted He Xi:


    "Hey, could you let your boss know? ''Polaris'' is tricky at first, but it gets addictive fast! If she needs help, I¡¯m available 24/7!"


    After He Xi relayed the message, Sheng Quan, now wearing the VR headset, replied, "Tell him not to worry. No matter how hard it is, I¡¯m sticking with it."


    Because the experience was just that good.


    Before trying it, she¡¯d scoffed at the 5-million price tag¡ªlike money grew on trees.


    Now?


    Worth every penny.


    Sheng Quan maneuvered her character forward, marveling at the grass, the flowers, the massive whale soaring overhead, its wake sending ripples through the clouds. The details were breathtaking.


    She could happily spend all day here, even without playing.


    This was nothing like the cheap VR games she¡¯d tried in malls back in her past life.


    The reason Sheng Quan had always been wary of VR was due to a past experience. In her previous life, she had once tried a VR headset at an esports center, only to end up feeling dizzy and nauseous. The visuals were somewhat realistic, but after just ten minutes of play, she was so disoriented that she had to give up.


    But this game, ¡¾Polaris¡¿, was completely different¡ªno dizziness, crystal-clear graphics, and none of that awkward physical disconnect. Even when sitting and using the control screen, she could get the hang of it quickly.


    This kind of immersive experience was something you could only truly appreciate once you were inside the game.


    Sheng Quan: What a waste.


    She should¡¯ve bought this VR headset the moment it launched last year!


    To put it into perspective, the game¡¯s visuals were like stepping into a movie¡ªso lifelike that it almost felt like the full-dive holographic games she had once imagined.


    That said, while the experience was incredible, the high-end equipment also made the game harder to master. The realism was so intense that she didn¡¯t even know where to focus.


    For a newbie like Sheng Quan, clearing the beginner levels was a challenge. She knew that switching to a PC or letting an experienced player take over would make things easier¡ªbut hey, she was just a little inexperienced.


    No big deal! As long as it was fun, that was all that mattered!


    The only downside was the massive map. Wearing the VR headset made it hard to check walkthroughs, and the forums were filled with gaming jargon she couldn¡¯t decipher.


    Luckily, she was a firm believer in speedrunning solutions.


    CEO Sheng swiftly tapped the "I Need Guidance & Companionship" button in the top-right corner.


    At the ¡¾Polaris¡¿ China agency, a staff member nicknamed Little Xia had been waiting for this very moment.


    Due to the unique nature of the 3E equipment, the game company had assigned dedicated customer service agents to assist VR players. Little Xia was one of the trained professionals.


    When her service indicator lit up, she knew another wealthy player had logged in.


    Sure, five million yuan wasn¡¯t an impossible sum for many in China, but spending it on gaming? That was rare. Little Xia sighed inwardly¡ªsome people really had money to burn¡ªbefore diving into the game.


    Dedicated agents earned commissions based on how much their assigned players spent. The more a player splurged, the higher the bonus.


    Of course, regular players didn¡¯t get this kind of VIP treatment.


    Little Xia¡¯s in-game avatar was a plump, round white fluffball. As soon as she entered the interface, she activated her mic and greeted Sheng Quan in a sweet voice:


    "Hello! I¡¯m Little Xia, your dedicated companion and support agent. You can ask me anything about the game."


    Sheng Quan, who had been expecting an automated response, blinked in surprise: So the "guidance & companionship" was an actual person?


    As a first-timer in such a massive game, CEO Sheng was genuinely impressed.


    After ?????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????some back-and-forth, Little Xia figured out that this player, ¡¾Hold the Throne¡¿, wasn¡¯t here for competitive play. No problem¡ª¡¾Polaris¡¿ catered to all kinds of players, whether they were into PvP, sightseeing, or anything else.


    Though this big-spender lady wasn¡¯t keen on competing herself, she was very interested in watching matches. Little Xia promptly introduced her to the game¡¯s ¡¾Arena¡¿ system.


    "Polaris is a highly flexible game with all kinds of modes. If you¡¯re interested in spectating matches, there are official and player-hosted arena battles every month."


    Sheng Quan followed her through various maps, each bustling with crowds around ongoing matches. Spectators packed the stands, with options for seating, standing areas, and even VIP viewing rooms.


    Even though she had never played large-scale games in her past life, she knew the technology back then couldn¡¯t have achieved this level of immersion.


    Only now did she truly understand the meaning behind that casually mentioned line from the original novel: "With entertainment becoming a universal pursuit, technological advancements in this field progressed rapidly."


    Little Xia offered a fair assessment:


    "Players using standard equipment see a different version of the visuals. Yours are far more detailed and realistic. If you want better interaction, you can visit the VR-exclusive zones, though the player count there might be lower."


    Sheng Quan had no interest in that. It didn¡¯t matter if others couldn¡¯t see what she saw¡ªas long as she could enjoy it, that was enough.


    So. Damn. Fun.


    She decided then and there: From now on, she¡¯d spend at least two hours a day in the game. Wait, no¡ªsince she was planning to invest in gaming soon, why not bump it up to five hours or more?


    For the next three days, Sheng Quan transformed into a full-blown gaming addict, completely absorbed in the virtual world.


    Not that she¡¯d lost her senses¡ªokay, maybe she was a little hooked¡ªbut she hadn¡¯t forgotten her grand ambitions.


    Her frequent logins were mostly to accumulate rewards in the prize pool.


    Sure enough, on the fourth day, the prize pool unlocked, filled with in-game goodies.


    Sheng Quan even did her draws while still immersed in the game.


    She didn¡¯t care what she got, as long as the value was high enough.


    Staring at the massive prize pool, she stretched her in-game avatar lazily. In reality, a determined smile curled on her lips as she examined the rewards she¡¯d drawn.


    Only high-value prizes could attract everyone¡¯s attention, after all.


    Meanwhile, in the real world, Little Xia was sipping water while organizing Sheng Quan¡¯s in-game inventory. Though it had only been three days, she¡¯d already grown fond of this wealthy player.


    She was low-maintenance, polite, never picked fights with top-ranked players, and didn¡¯t complain to customer service when she lost. Most of the time, she just wandered around exploring, occasionally petting Little Xia¡¯s fluffy white avatar and even buying it virtual leaves to munch on.


    Though this clearly loaded lady hadn¡¯t spent much in-game yet, Little Xia didn¡¯t mind. She was also handling two other VR players, so her monthly performance quota was already met.


    Plus, the lady fed her leaves!


    In all her time using this chubby fluffball avatar, this was the first time someone had actually treated it to snacks.


    In high spirits, Little Xia wiggled her avatar happily, meticulously tidied Sheng Quan¡¯s inventory, topped up her experience points, and even logged her in for the day. Satisfied, she let the fluffball squat in the storage room, munching on leaves.


    Meanwhile, the real-life Little Xia bent down to rummage through her drawer for some cookies.


    These cookies were expensive, but so delicious that she couldn¡¯t resist recommending them to ¡¾Hold the Throne¡¿ during their chat. After blurting it out, she¡¯d worried the lady might scoff at the suggestion¡ªbut to her delight, the recommendation was warmly received.


    Just as Little Xia sneakily popped a cookie into her mouth, a dry cough sounded behind her. She froze, then turned stiffly.


    "B-Boss... hi?"


    "Hi? Who said you could eat during work hours? And¡ªhey! Don¡¯t try bribing me! I don¡¯t even like this kind of¡ª"


    Before the manager could finish scolding, a chime echoed through the office¡ªthe alert signaling that one of their assigned players had made a massive in-game purchase. This particular sound meant the amount had surpassed all previous records.


    The manager¡¯s eyes lit up, and he immediately looked up at the main screen.


    There, in bold letters, it read:


    ¡¾Xia Qing¡¯s assigned player¡¿ Hold the Throne has topped up: 200 million yuan.


    "Polaris" had always been generous in acknowledging high-spending players. Any single recharge exceeding 30 million would trigger a server-wide announcement, let alone this staggering 200 million.


    In the game, Sheng Quan had just claimed his rewards when a series of server-wide notifications suddenly blared:


    [Congratulations to player Wo Jiangshan for achieving the "Wealth Beyond Measure" accomplishment]


    [Congratulations to player Wo Jiangshan for achieving the "Ultimate Spender" accomplishment]


    [Congratulations to player Wo Jiangshan for achieving the "Server''s Top Gold" accomplishment]


    [Congratulations to player Wo Jiangshan for obtaining the server''s highest gold amount: 20 billion]


    Players across "Polaris" who had been going about their business: ???


    "Holy shit?! 20 billion gold?"


    On the arena platform, Tan Chen looked up from his freshly concluded match.


    The player he''d just defeated immediately stopped playing dead and scrambled to their feet:


    "20 billion? That''s 200 million, right? In RMB?! Holy fucking shit!!"


    In the real world, Little Xia stared dumbfounded at the public screen.


    She wasn''t alone¡ªthe entire office had erupted in chaos.


    "200 million?! Isn''t this the highest single recharge record to date?!!"


    "Oh my god..."


    "Little Xia, you''ve hit the jackpot! The bonuses from this must be insane, I''m so jealous!"


    Amidst the commotion, the manager appeared remarkably composed. He turned to scold them: "Keep it down! Don''t act like our department has never seen real money before!"


    "There are plenty of wealthy people in this world! Someone spending 200 million is perfectly normal!"


    The others thought: Sure, people spend 200 million¡ªbut a single recharge of 200 million? That''s unprecedented.


    Pretending not to notice their expressions, the manager finished his stern lecture, then gently returned the biscuits he''d snatched from Little Xia earlier, his face transforming into an exceedingly warm smile:


    "Now Little Xia, where were we? Ah yes, the biscuits..."


    "I meant to say earlier¡ªI love these exact same biscuits too. Go ahead, eat up, have as many as you want. I''ve got more if you run out."


    "Haven''t you heard? Office environments and biscuit-eating are a perfect match, hahahaha!"

 Chapter 85

    "Polaris" is so popular that it has naturally seen its fair share of wealthy players who spend lavishly in-game. But topping up to the game''s maximum recharge limit in one go? That was truly unprecedented.


    Little Xia was stunned.


    Yet, she didn¡¯t even have time to calculate how much commission she might earn from a player who just spent 200 million before she hurriedly, under the watchful eyes of her entire office, nervously guided her chubby white avatar to seek out this big spender.


    As the dedicated customer service representative, she had to check if the player had any requests after such a massive recharge.


    She eventually found Sheng Quan in the VIP room at the arena replay section.


    This big spender, who had just dropped 200 million and set the entire game abuzz with discussions, hadn¡¯t created a guild, bought land, or recruited followers. Instead, she was sitting there intently watching arena replay videos.


    The plump white avatar wriggled out of the teleportation array and clumsily bowed in the game:


    "You¡¯ve just made a large recharge. Do you have any high-value transactions to process? Little Xia here can assist you with quick operations~"


    Yes, even in Polaris, large transactions required paperwork. The developers claimed this was to "enhance realism," but impatient players mostly just cursed the company for squeezing every last penny out of them.


    But what could they do? Polaris was just too fun. Players grumbled but kept playing.


    Seeing the adorable white avatar, Sheng Quan couldn¡¯t resist pulling out fresh green leaves from her food storage. She handed them over while replying, "Not for now."


    She had deliberately cultivated the prize pool with game-related items for a reason, but she needed to wait a little longer.


    "Little Xia, you came at the perfect time. I was just about to ask you¡ªwhat kind of people usually participate in arena matches? Professional players?"


    Relieved that the player "Reign Over Rivers and Mountains" was as approachable as ever, Little Xia relaxed.


    The white avatar clutched the leaves and answered cutely, "Arena matches offer rewards¡ªsometimes monetary, sometimes dungeon-related. All players can participate. Outside of the competitive season, pro players usually join when specific rewards are available."


    "But during the season, you rarely see them in arena matches."


    Sheng Quan: "Because they¡¯re training for the season?"


    "Exactly. Arena matches are one-on-one, which can help with daily training, but the season focuses on team battles. Arena matches don¡¯t contribute much to that. Plus, the system isn¡¯t very fair to pro players, so they tend to avoid it."


    The avatar was undeniably cute, but its professional knowledge was solid, explaining everything clearly to Sheng Quan.


    Sheng Quan understood now. Professional players naturally had superior skills and mechanics compared to casual players, but the developers couldn¡¯t just let them sweep all the rewards.


    To balance things, pro players entered arena matches with a 40% stat handicap. That might not sound like much, but in-game, it was brutal.


    In other words, if a pro player wanted to win in the arena, they had to outperform opponents while fighting at a severe disadvantage.


    Doing that consistently must be exhausting.


    Sheng Quan¡¯s gaze drifted to the past winners¡¯ list. Sometimes "No Chase" appeared, sometimes not. But nearly every day, she saw "No Chase" among the participants.


    Tan Chen was fighting in the arena almost daily.


    That had to be grueling. Before diving into the game herself, Sheng Quan hadn¡¯t fully grasped it, but now she realized how mentally draining intense gaming sessions could be¡ªespecially in a high-skill game like Polaris.


    And honestly, the gaming scene in this world was ridiculously competitive.


    The pro players were on another level. Forget looks¡ªtheir technical prowess was insane. They made high-difficulty maneuvers look like child¡¯s play.


    Even the domestic teams, often criticized by fans, had match footage that, in Sheng Quan¡¯s eyes, was ten times more thrilling than any esports she¡¯d seen in her past life.


    If these players were transported to her old world, even the most average among them would probably be hailed as legends. She wasn¡¯t sure if people here were just built different or if the relentless competition had forced everyone to sharpen their skills to the extreme.


    Not that Sheng Quan minded. She might not be grinding herself, but watching these technical showdowns was pure entertainment.


    Even the streamers were ultra-competitive, each one more flashy and engaging than the last, constantly pushing boundaries and cracking jokes to keep audiences hooked.


    Sheng Quan firmly believed her recent gaming addiction was entirely their fault.


    And among the non-pro, non-streamer competitive players, hidden gods kept emerging. These players loved arena matches¡ªgreat for fame, money, and extra rewards.


    At equal stats, they stood no chance against Tan Chen. But with his stats nerfed? That was a different story.


    Tan Chen was essentially fighting grown men with the body of a child¡ªand winning, over and over again.


    In the game, Sheng Quan raised a hand, and a telescope instantly appeared. Lying back in the VIP room, she peered through it at Tan Chen¡¯s ongoing match.


    The commentator, a large parrot, hung upside-down from the railing, shouting:


    "No Chase leaps¡ªSkill 1 into Skill 2, then 4, then 7! But alas, this seems like a last stand! Lie Yan¡¯s Flame Pursuit is closing in! Unless a miracle happens¡ªwait, what?! SKILL 9!!! He actually chained it after the combo into Skills 1 and 5! What kind of reflexes and APM is this?!"


    "A soaring leap across the sky! Skills 7 and 9 merge into ice, freezing Flame Pursuit in place! No Chase did it! HE DID IT! And¡ªwithout pause¡ªhe follows up with 1-2-3! 4-6 finisher! HERE IT COMES!!! A BLIZZARD ENGULFS THE ARENA!! Lie Yan is hit! HE¡¯S HIT!!"


    "ONE! TWO! THREE! LIE YAN GOES DOWN!!!!!"


    The parrot swooped down, landing on the shoulder of Tan Chen¡¯s in-game character, pulling out a comically oversized megaphone:


    ¡ª"I NOW DECLARE!!!"


    ¡ª"PLAYER NO CHASE!!! VICTORIOUS!!!!!"


    "WOOOOO!!!"


    "6666666!!!!"


    "HOLY CRAP THAT WAS INSANE!!!"


    The crowd, which had been holding its breath, erupted into deafening cheers. The entire arena shook with excitement:


    "No Chase! No Chase!!"


    For regular players, the spectacle might be manageable, but VR players experienced it in near-realism. Little Xia worried her VIP client might find the noise overwhelming.


    After all, "Reign Over Rivers and Mountains" seemed like the type who preferred serene sightseeing over the arena¡¯s intense atmosphere.


    "If it¡¯s too loud, you can enable noise reduction mode..."


    The white avatar turned its head¡ªonly to see the player already holding up a megaphone of her own, one with golden trim.


    The headset quickly transmitted the excited voice of the young woman: "Don''t chase!! Don''t chase!!!"


    "Ahhhhhhh!!!!!"


    Facing Sheng Quan, who was completely assimilated and even louder than anyone else, the white fluffball froze for a second.


    Then she quickly pulled out another diamond-shaped megaphone from the storage and handed it over:


    "Use this one¡ªit''s even louder!"


    Unbeknownst to her, Sheng Quan''s game screen was playing a replay from seven years ago.


    The protagonist was also "Don''t Chase."


    The same limit-defying maneuvers.


    The same improbable comeback.


    The same roaring cheers from the crowd.


    Nineteen-year-old Tan Chen, maneuvering his character with a flourish of his sword, waved triumphantly at the stage below, where his teammates and opponents stood.


    "Tan Chen! You brat, dare to come back tomorrow! It''s not over yet!"


    "Arena matches strain the hands¡ªI can''t do too many. Want a rematch? Get in line next week. And by the way, I''ll win again."


    "You''re way too cocky. Who thinks they''ll win before even fighting?"


    "You just don''t get it. This is the esports spirit¡ªalways chasing victory, never admitting defeat."


    ¡ª¡ªReality and the past recording overlapped almost perfectly. The only difference was that, amidst the deafening cheers, Tan Chen''s in-game character stood motionless, lost in thought.


    Lie Yan, the defeated opponent, respawned and theatrically cracked his neck before issuing an invitation:


    Don''t chase, take a break, and let''s go again. I''ll post the bounty myself.


    He knew Don''t Chase needed money. Sure enough, Tan Chen reached out to accept the reward handed over by the parrot and agreed:


    "Fine. Five minutes, then we go again."


    In reality, his arms throbbed with pain.


    The base of his thumbs ached sharply, a discomfort impossible to ignore. Tan Chen raised his hand¡ªhis once-dexterous fingers now stiff¡ªand slowly rewrapped the bandages around his forearms.


    "Coach."


    Chen Mo''s voice suddenly rang out. Tan Chen tightened the bandages, directed his character to meditate in the rest area, and turned off voice chat before looking at her:


    "Aren''t you supposed to be filming? Why are you here?"


    The young girl glanced at the arena match on the screen. "It''s lunch break now. They''re not filming our group, so I came to check on you."


    "You have another arena match? Let me fight it. I can win too."


    Tan Chen slowly rested his bandaged arm back on the desk. The pain made him instinctively pull out a cigarette and place it between his lips.


    Because Chen Mo was there, he didn''t light it.


    "Fight what? You''re in the middle of a variety show livestream. Where would you find the time?"


    "Time can be squeezed out! And the team can take turns¡ªone match a day is doable."


    Tan Chen replied flatly, "No."


    Chen Mo persisted, "Coach, let us do it. We can win too! We''ve all improved, and we can earn money for the team."


    Tan Chen cut her off, "Stop thinking about it. Go back to filming."


    Chen Mo puffed her cheeks. "I know¡ªarena matches strain the hands. You''re worried we''ll get injured. But I asked around. Short-term matches won¡¯t have lasting effects. After the global tournament, we can rest and recover."


    Tan Chen couldn''t help but laugh at the nai?ve words of his youngest teammate.


    His laughter carried self-mockery and resignation¡ªbecause he¡¯d once been just as nai?ve.


    "Rest and recover? Do you know what it feels like for a pro player to develop chronic injuries? Your arms hurt nonstop. In severe cases, you can¡¯t even eat. Moves you once pulled off effortlessly become impossible."


    "Once injuries set in, retirement isn¡¯t far off. Either you pay a fortune for surgery or rely on team doctors for temporary relief. Do you want to lie awake at night in pain? Or reach a point where painkillers stop working, leaving you to endure it raw?"


    Seeing Chen Mo¡¯s shocked expression, Tan Chen softened his tone.


    "Alright, I get that you want to help. But the team still has funds. This isn¡¯t your concern. Just focus on the matches. Go back."


    Chen Mo didn¡¯t leave. Her gaze fixed on Tan Chen¡¯s heavily bandaged hands, and her eyes reddened instantly.


    "Coach... you retired because of injuries too. Does it hurt like this every day for you?"


    "You¡¯re in so much pain, yet you still fight arena matches for money?"


    "Then... loan us out. We¡¯re young¡ªwe can handle high-intensity matches. Luan Zhi said their team got loaned out, and the offers were huge. Way more than this variety show pays."


    Tan Chen froze. He turned back to the screen. "Don¡¯t even think about loans. How many times do I have to say it? Getting loaned out turns you into expendable tools. Your future gets ruined. You¡¯re just starting out¡ªI¡¯d have to be insane to agree."


    "And ignore the media nonsense. It¡¯s not as bad as they say. I just fight arena matches to pass the time. Now go."


    Chen Mo opened her mouth to argue, but Tan Chen raised his voice.


    "I¡¯ll count to three."


    "One, two¡ª"


    No matter the situation, "I¡¯ll count to three" never failed.


    Chen Mo immediately caved, shuffling out with frequent backward glances.


    Lie Yan was spamming Tan Chen¡¯s messages:


    [Why¡¯d you mute voice?]


    Was that someone from your team? Sounded like a Sword Dancer. I''ve seen her matches¡ªshe''s strong! Get her up here for a round. Or even Dancing Blade. I''ll triple the bounty.


    [Ignoring me? Don¡¯t tell me you¡¯re mad. One match won¡¯t kill them. So what if they get tired? They¡¯re young. You can¡¯t shoulder all the team¡¯s expenses alone¡ªyou¡¯re not invincible.]


    [Fine, fine. No pushing. I know you¡¯re a mother hen guarding her chicks. I¡¯ll stop eyeing them, okay?]


    [Reply already! My skills are itching for action.]


    Tan Chen flexed his stiff fingers.


    Don¡¯t Chase: [Got held up. Let¡¯s go.]


    Lie Yan: [Seriously? No more rest? You¡¯ve been at it all day. Hands not killing you?]


    Don¡¯t Chase: [In or out? I¡¯ll find someone else.]


    Lie Yan: [In, in! Damn, how broke are you?]


    In the game, the private arena match resumed.


    Lie Yan posted the bounty first, then cupped his hands toward the spectators:


    "Ladies and gents, additional bets are open!"


    "Same rules¡ªtop bidder gets a post-match spar with the winner. Don¡¯t miss out!"


    In private arena matches, if both sides agreed, players could place side bets. The mechanic worked like this: A player would designate one of the fighters and stake a sum. If their pick won, they¡¯d claim 90% of the pot, while the remaining 10% was randomly distributed to audience members.


    If the chosen fighter lost, the money rolled into the official prize pool for future matches.


    This was akin to a form of tipping, often seen during intense matches where spectators would place additional bets to spur on their favored players. Not only did it motivate the competitors, but it also whipped the crowd into a frenzy, cheering like they were on a sugar high.


    Though most players were freeloaders, there were always a few big spenders in the mix.


    Just one look at Lie Yan¡¯s flashy, over-the-top in-game outfit was enough to tell he wasn¡¯t strapped for cash.


    His actions were clearly for Tan Chen¡¯s sake.


    "Given our fame and status, I¡¯d say we can easily rake in tens of thousands in bets this time," Lie Yan said optimistically.


    Tan Chen wasn¡¯t as hopeful. "It¡¯s a weekday. There won¡¯t be many."


    Besides, the essence of betting was to support the player you liked, and winners would also receive rewards from the system. So, this kind of wagering was pretty common in private arena matches.


    Tan Chen used to have a legion of supporters¡ªback before he retired.


    He shook off the thought and vaulted onto the stage.


    "Alright, after I beat you, I¡¯m grabbing a meal."


    Lie Yan grinned. "Heh, and here I thought you were always humble. That sounded pretty cocky, like you¡¯ve already won."


    Tan Chen paused. "Slip of the tongue."


    He summoned his weapon, landing lightly on the ground. "I take it back."


    As expected, the betting pool was meager today, mostly just for fun, and the majority of the bets were on Lie Yan. After all, Lie Yan was the leader of a major guild, known for his fiery enthusiasm and charisma¡ªhis popularity was undeniable.


    Lie Yan scratched his head awkwardly. "Guess your fans are all at work today."


    Tan Chen, the one directly involved, didn¡¯t seem bothered. "What fans?"


    Even if he¡¯d had any, they¡¯d vanished after he took the blame for Po Shui¡¯s blunder in the last tournament.


    The two clashed, and Tan Chen, already running low on stamina, gradually fell into a disadvantage.


    After a few rounds, he was knocked to the ground, pushing himself up slowly with his weapon. Lie Yan, rarely in the lead, was thrilled.


    "Haha! Looks like I¡¯m taking this one."


    Tan Chen smirked weakly. "Maybe."


    Just as they were about to continue, the announcer parrot suddenly grabbed its megaphone.


    "Player Sheng Quan has placed a bet on: No Chase."


    "Bet amount: One. Million. Gold!!!"


    Tan Chen froze, instinctively looking up.


    ¡ªBOOM!!


    The previously murmuring crowd erupted.


    "A million gold?! Holy crap, I came to watch a small match and ended up witnessing a whale!"


    "Sheng Quan?! That¡¯s the player who topped up 200 million today! No way she¡¯s watching a regular arena match!!"


    Lie Yan hefted his greatsword, gaping upward. "What the¡ª? A million gold? That¡¯s the max bet!"


    Before he could finish, the parrot turned into a broken record, blaring repeatedly:


    "Player Sheng Quan¡ª"


    "¡ªOne million gold!!!"


    "Player Sheng Quan¡ª"


    "¡ªOne million gold!!!"


    Players from other arenas craned their necks to look.


    "How many millions is that now?!"


    "Sheng Quan, the one who dropped 200 mil?! I¡¯m heading over!"


    "This is insane! If No Chase loses, all that gold goes straight to the prize pool!"


    Back in Arena C, the parrot was still screeching at full volume:


    "Player Sheng Quan has¡ªcough¡ªSir/Madam, you¡¯ve hit the betting cap for Arena C! No more! Also, my voice is giving out. Give me a sec to hydrate."


    After gulping down some water, the parrot fluttered to the VIP booth window and extended its megaphone.


    "You¡¯ve set today¡¯s highest bet! You now have one minute of server-wide broadcast time. Also, quick interview¡ªwhy bet on No Chase when he¡¯s clearly losing? Trying to hype him up?"


    Dropping that much gold just for morale would be a total waste.


    Every eye in the arena locked onto the VIP booth, where gold icons kept flashing¡ªincluding Tan Chen¡¯s.


    Sheng Quan¡¯s in-game avatar leaned against the windowsill. "No."


    Her tone was confident, almost arrogant. "I just think he¡¯s definitely going to win."


    Tan Chen listened quietly. In reality, he lowered his gaze to his hands.


    Definitely... win?


    Lie Yan strained his ears but only caught that much. "What kind of eyes does your supporter have? You¡¯re obviously getting wrecked."


    "Continue."


    Tan Chen raised his hand, swapping to a new weapon¡ªa longbow materializing in his grip.


    Lie Yan blinked. "We¡¯re in close combat. You¡¯re using a bow?"


    Tan Chen plucked the bowstring. "Because I want to win. Badly."


    Not for the sake of grinding gold in endless matches. Not to numb the pain by burying himself in battles.


    Just for victory.


    He wanted to win.


    Desperately.


    Fight. Go all out. Charge forward without hesitation. Seize the win. Claim the glory. Earn... trust.


    Lie Yan: "??"


    Just a few words, but somehow, Tan Chen¡¯s entire aura shifted.


    Like ?????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????he¡¯d suddenly come alive.


    Lie Yan: Fine, I¡¯ll just beat you to death then!


    He hit "Continue," unleashing his skills¡ªbut Tan Chen was faster. In the next second, bowstrings lashed out like whips.


    The parrot squawked in shock. "That¡¯s¡ªBow Arts!! No Chase just used Bow Arts in melee range! Wait¡ªhe switched weapons! Stacking five skills with three others while swapping three weapons mid-combo!!"


    "Lie Yan counters fast! No Chase dodges! How is he using Skyward Strike while airborne?! One hit! Just one hit!!!"


    Robes fluttering, the avatar labeled No Chase leapt into the air, maintaining his skills while swapping weapons mid-motion.


    ¡ªWHOOSH!


    An arrow, wreathed in frost, shot toward Lie Yan, now trapped in a web of skills.


    This strike was unstoppable, arrogant, leaving no room for retreat.


    The towering bear-warrior swung his greatsword to block¡ªonly to watch the arrow graze the blade and pierce straight through his heart.


    "Lie Yan¡ªIS DOWN!!!"


    The arena fell silent for a second before exploding in cheers.


    "HOLY CRAP!!!! THAT WAS INSANE!!"


    "HE TURNED IT AROUND!!!"


    The parrot circled overhead, screeching:


    "One! Two! Three!!!"


    "The winner of this match is¡ªNO CHASE!!!!"


    Amid the deafening cheers, Tan Chen looked up at Sheng Quan, still lounging by the VIP window.


    He wanted to say something, but words failed him.


    In the end, all he managed was a quiet, "Thank you."


    Thank you... for believing I could win.


    In reality, Tan Chen¡¯s hands trembled slightly¡ªthe aftermath of rapid, high-intensity inputs. It hurt, of course. But for the first time in a long while, he felt light.


    Unburdened.


    A numb and lifeless body seemed to slowly stir with renewed energy¡ªwhat kind of energy, even Tan Chen himself couldn¡¯t quite explain.


    "Energy? I can definitely feel it. Want me to describe it for you?"


    On the ground, Lie Yan trembled weakly as she healed herself, while the towering Bear Warrior rubbed his bruised and swollen face.


    "The force you used to hit me..."


    "Was seriously intense."

 Chapter 86

    Sheng Quan unsurprisingly secured the title of the top bidder in the first round of sponsorship.


    However, she didn¡¯t ask Tan Chen to accompany her as a gaming partner. Instead, she expressed that she only wanted to ask him about esports-related topics and various aspects of the game "Polaris"¡ªessentially just having a casual chat.


    It¡¯s worth mentioning here that the in-game currency in "Polaris" can be converted into real cash, and certain gaming-related equipment, dungeon access, or items can also be purchased directly with gold coins.


    Tan Chen had been relentlessly participating in arena matches because, at the moment, this was the only method he could think of to earn money quickly without any waiting time.


    But this approach had its drawbacks. It barely allowed his hands any rest, and injuries kept piling up¡ªessentially, he was trading his physical health for money.


    Young newcomers might not understand, but Tan Chen, who had weathered the ups and downs of esports for so long, knew it all too well.


    Though he loved esports, it wasn¡¯t entirely accurate to say he was risking his life for it.


    "Just need to hold on until this period is over," he thought.


    On the pristine, snow-covered mountain, when Sheng Quan asked him this question, Tan Chen smiled and replied:


    "Don¡¯t underestimate our small team. Every member of Polar Waters is incredibly skilled. Climbing our way up won¡¯t be a problem."


    Perhaps because he had just finished an exhilarating match, or perhaps because Sheng Quan didn¡¯t mock him, Tan Chen¡¯s tone gradually grew more spirited and confident:


    "As long as we deliver results, we¡¯ll attract major investors. Once the club has funding and a team doctor, I¡¯ll be able to rest and recover properly."


    Sheng Quan could tell that Tan Chen deeply cared about his teammates. Whenever he spoke of them, his voice carried a warmth and gentleness.


    She was almost certain now.


    Tan Chen wasn¡¯t just a naturally gifted professional player¡ªhe also possessed remarkable talent as an esports coach.


    It was obvious. How could a small team like Polar Waters coincidentally have every member be a top-tier genius in the industry?


    Though the novel barely mentioned Tan Chen, her recent research into esports hadn¡¯t been for nothing. Most professional players started young, so those who achieved great results often became coaches for major clubs after retirement.


    After retiring, Tan Chen had been hired as a coach by one of the three biggest clubs, but he resigned after just three months, taking with him Bai Xiangyuan, an overlooked trainee.


    Later, he formed the small Polar Waters team, gathering young players around Bai Xiangyuan¡¯s age, patiently waiting for the global tournament held every three years.


    Years of gossip-digging experience allowed Sheng Quan to easily find forum posts from that time. Though she couldn¡¯t piece together the full story, it was clear that Bai Xiangyuan hadn¡¯t shown any exceptional talent back then.


    So how had he become the "Rookie King" now?


    And in the novel¡¯s brief mentions, everything had unfolded as Tan Chen wished¡ªPolar Waters climbed the ranks, gradually becoming the center of attention.


    Perhaps this small team couldn¡¯t strike it rich overnight, but they would at least no longer need Tan Chen to sacrifice his health for money.


    So why, in the end, did Tan Chen still succumb to his injuries?


    Sheng Quan thought of a possibility and asked, "Have you ever considered returning to the competition?"


    "Since you¡¯re still registered in the team, you could still compete, right?"


    Tan Chen paused, then in reality, gave a faint smile tinged with regret but also a hint of acceptance:


    "I used to think about it. Honestly, right after retiring, I dreamed almost every night of competing again. But looking back now, I¡¯ve long come to terms with how things ended. It was just... a bit of lingering reluctance."


    Sheng Quan didn¡¯t ask why Tan Chen felt reluctant.


    Though this was their first meeting, she could guess that it wasn¡¯t retirement itself he couldn¡¯t accept.


    Perhaps, as a once-ambitious young man, he had wanted to leave with a smile after winning a championship.


    Not to be sidelined by his club, denied even the chance to compete during his prime, only to be loaned out repeatedly until his body gave out.


    She asked again, "So, you¡¯ll never return to the stage?"


    "No," Tan Chen answered firmly.


    After a moment, he added with a chuckle, "Besides, there¡¯s no need for me to compete now. Let the younger players take the spotlight."


    There was even a trace of pride in his voice.


    Sheng Quan couldn¡¯t help but ponder. Tan Chen¡¯s stance was resolute¡ªhe had regrets, but he knew he couldn¡¯t return.


    And despite his seemingly reckless playstyle, Tan Chen was actually meticulous, calculating every step.


    So in the original story, when Polar Waters was soaring, what had happened to trigger Tan Chen¡¯s fatal injury?


    As she lost herself in thought, Lie Yan, noticing her silence, chimed in:


    "See? Boss, I told you¡ªthis guy¡¯s like a mother hen with his chicks."


    Tan Chen maneuvered his game character to kick him:


    ¡°We agreed only the winner gets to accompany her. Why did you insist on tagging along?¡±


    ¡°Isn¡¯t it because the boss said she wanted to learn about esports?¡± Lie Yan deftly dodged, grinning. ¡°You¡¯re the type who can¡¯t squeeze out half a word even if beaten with a stick. What if you can¡¯t explain what she wants to know properly?¡±


    ¡°See, I¡¯m talkative¡ªchatting is my specialty. Consider it a buy-one-get-one deal. The boss already agreed, so you should be secretly thrilled to have me helping out.¡±


    With that, he made his bulky bear character flash a heart at the two of them.


    Sheng Quan couldn¡¯t help but laugh at Lie Yan¡¯s antics.


    She could tell Lie Yan was worried Tan Chen¡¯s reserved nature might upset her, the big boss, so he¡¯d come along to smooth things over. ¡°That¡¯s right, I agreed to it.¡±


    Lie Yan immediately acted as if he¡¯d received some divine decree, gleefully bouncing his character around Tan Chen.


    Sheng Quan checked the snowflakes accumulating in her gourd. ¡°I¡¯ve almost got enough snowflakes. I¡¯ll head to the mountaintop to collect them¡ªit¡¯s a solo mission, so you two don¡¯t need to come up.¡±


    Once she left, Lie Yan sidled up to Tan Chen. ¡°I really think the boss of Wo Jiangshan has high hopes for you. You should seize the opportunity¡ªshe¡¯s a big spender who dropped 200 million in the game!¡±


    ¡°Isn¡¯t your team lacking a sponsor? Go for it!¡±


    Tan Chen sighed. ¡°She increased her investment because she believes in me. How can I turn around and ask for funding? She mentioned she¡¯s in the film industry and a complete novice in esports. Wouldn¡¯t that put her in an awkward position?¡±


    ¡°Besides, didn¡¯t you hear earlier? The boss didn¡¯t spend 200 million just for fun. She¡¯s clearly aiming for Polar¡¯s perpetual shares.¡±


    Tan Chen often followed Polar¡¯s news and was well aware of this.


    This year, Polar¡¯s official player reward event promised that the player with the highest in-game points would receive perpetual shares in Polar.


    Naturally, points were calculated based on spending¡ªevery top-up, every extravagant in-game purchase translated into points.


    Lie Yan¡¯s eyes widened. ¡°Damn, just for those shares? They¡¯re barely worth anything. Two hundred million could buy so much else.¡±


    ¡°The boss must have her own plans.¡±


    Tan Chen didn¡¯t fully understand it either, but even though they¡¯d only crossed paths in the game, he could sense Sheng Quan had a strategy behind her spending.


    ¡°She seems like the type who enjoys herself but never wastes a single penny.¡±


    He paused, then added quietly, ¡°During that last match, she genuinely believed I could win.¡±


    That¡¯s why he hadn¡¯t considered Lie Yan¡¯s suggestion to seek investment from Sheng Quan.


    Because he felt her goodwill, he didn¡¯t want to burden someone who¡¯d shown him kindness.


    Lie Yan clicked his tongue. ¡°You talked for just half an hour, and you already figured out her personality? I couldn¡¯t tell anything except that she¡¯s loaded.¡±


    Tan Chen didn¡¯t stop gathering snowgrass. ¡°In gaming, observation is fundamental.¡±


    ¡°No wonder you didn¡¯t notice.¡±


    ¡°Yeah, right.¡±


    Lie Yan crouched down to help, then suddenly realized, ¡°Wait¡ªare you saying I suck at games?!¡±


    ¡°I never said that.¡±


    ¡°You totally implied it. I knew it¡ªfrom the moment we met, I could tell you were sly.¡±


    And then, gradually, he¡¯d grown quieter.


    Tan Chen fell silent for a few seconds before saying, ¡°Lie Yan, thank you.¡±


    Lie Yan had witnessed every shift in him, yet this ¡°gaming buddy¡± never pried or commented, simply dragging him into matches as usual.


    ¡°No need. We¡¯re close, aren¡¯t we? But seriously, after that match, it¡¯s like you came back to life.¡±


    Lie Yan sighed dramatically.


    ¡°If I¡¯d known beating me up would energize you, I¡¯d have let you do it ages ago. What a shame.¡±


    Tan Chen: ¡°If you want, I can beat you up again.¡±


    Lie Yan: ¡°...I¡¯m out!¡±


    After the banter, both of them were in good spirits.


    For Tan Chen, the financial pressure had eased thanks to that ¡°massive boost,¡± and in the real world, his team, Po Shui, was gaining traction thanks to the livestreamed variety show.


    The small, struggling team had already gained some fans after their impressive winning streak in matches. If not for Bai Xiangyuan¡¯s mistake in the last match, Tan Chen¡¯s original plan was to secure sponsors this month.


    Unfortunately, the loss had made hesitant sponsors even warier.


    That was why Tan Chen had pushed himself to the limit, grinding through tournaments. But now, things were looking up¡ªthe show¡¯s broadcast had soothed the fans¡¯ disappointment, and the next match would turn the tide.


    Moreover, he would almost always see Sheng Quan online whenever he logged into the game. Along with Lie Yan, the three of them didn¡¯t chat much anymore, but teaming up to play together still gave Tan Chen a rare and enjoyable stretch of carefree leisure.


    Sheng Quan was having a great time too.


    Even before meeting Tan Chen and the others, she had already found the game incredibly fun. But now, with two veteran players at a god-tier level guiding her, every challenge became a breeze. Dungeons felt like walking through unguarded territory, and they even uncovered all sorts of hidden gameplay mechanics.


    In ?????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????short, Chairman Sheng was practically floating with joy.


    In the real world, she wasn¡¯t idle either, constantly comparing various assets. The only thing she couldn¡¯t figure out was why, in the original storyline, Tan Chen¡¯s injuries had escalated to such a severe degree.


    Right now, they were admittedly a bit short on funds, but it wasn¡¯t as if they were on the brink of collapse, desperately in need of a big investor to save them from imminent doom.


    Even if Sheng Quan didn¡¯t invest, other backers would start stepping in within a month¡ªall part of Tan Chen¡¯s carefully laid plans.


    ¡ªUntil Tan Chen didn¡¯t log in for three straight days.


    It was only after asking Lie Yan that Sheng Quan learned Bai Xiangyuan, the player whose mistake had cost them the last match, was trying to leave the team. Tan Chen had been dealing with the fallout all this time.


    She asked, ¡°Do you have his number?¡±


    Lie Yan¡¯s eyes instantly lit up, and he swiftly handed over the contact¡ªthe whole exchange took less than two seconds.


    That day, Tan Chen, sitting listlessly on the steps, received a call.


    ¡°Actually, I¡¯m not just dabbling in film and TV stuff.¡±


    Sheng Quan glanced at the acquisition contract in her hand. ¡°I never mentioned this, did I? I might be a newcomer.¡±


    ¡°But that doesn¡¯t stop me from owning an esports club.¡±

 Chapter 87

    Sheng Quan had checked the official website to confirm Bai Xiangyuan''s withdrawal from the team before making the call.


    In the original text of Starlight, there was very little information about Tan Chen. She didn¡¯t even know the details of his eventual passing, let alone any understanding of his character.


    But Sheng Quan couldn¡¯t just dismiss him because the book didn¡¯t elaborate.


    When she first transmigrated into this world, her life had been hanging by a thread, and she¡¯d still taken the time to personally assess Yan Hui.


    This mission was different.


    First, the stakes were incredibly high.


    Sure, Sheng Quan had a billion-dollar estate, multiple high-end properties, and a skyscraper in Shanghai¡ªbut lottery winnings were nothing compared to mission rewards.


    This was the largest sum Sheng Quan had ever been offered, and it was also the first time she could invest in multiple talents. She didn¡¯t just need skilled individuals; she needed a reliable "leader" she could trust.


    If Tan Chen had been exactly as the book described, Sheng Quan would have invested in him¡ªbut she wouldn¡¯t have used her sole "primary slot" on him.


    Yet the reality proved that Tan Chen was nothing like the book¡¯s portrayal.


    The novel had painted him as someone who would sacrifice everything, even his life, for victory and his passion for esports.


    The real Tan Chen? Meticulously calculated, every move planned from the moment he founded Team Breaking Waves.


    He loved gaming, but he also valued his life.


    Just like his in-game strategies, every step seemed to teeter on the edge of disaster¡ªothers thought he was reckless, but in truth, he always landed safely.


    Take the tournament, for example. After Sheng Quan increased her bets, she confirmed her suspicions: Tan Chen had been deliberately holding back to manage his injuries.


    Even though he hated it. Even though he craved victory.


    But this was the only way he could earn a living while keeping his physical strain under control.


    "You can¡¯t have your cake and eat it too"¡ªthis saying didn¡¯t exist in Tan Chen¡¯s world. He walked that precarious line, protecting his teammates, protecting himself, and still securing wins.


    Strictly speaking, he was also a bit of a schemer.


    He could¡¯ve made a name for himself early on, but to avoid being targeted by major clubs, he¡¯d kept Team Breaking Waves under the radar until the global tournament.


    Now, those big clubs were probably cursing this dark horse that had suddenly emerged.


    But it made sense.


    Back in his playing days, even his basic attacks were part of a grander scheme¡ªchaining combos only to finish off opponents with a single, calculated normal hit. A true mastermind.


    As Sheng Quan pieced everything together, she couldn¡¯t help but remark to 006:


    [No wonder skilled gamers are all so cunning.]


    But no matter how cunning Tan Chen was, it had all been to protect Team Breaking Waves. Who would¡¯ve thought he¡¯d be stabbed in the back by the very people he shielded?


    After mentioning she owned a club, Sheng Quan steered the conversation to Bai Xiangyuan:


    ¡°Why did he leave the team?¡±


    Tan Chen¡¯s reaction was noticeably sluggish. He didn¡¯t even seem to grasp that Sheng Quan was the one speaking to him, let alone process her claim about owning a club.


    The young man sat on the steps, blinking slowly before answering:


    ¡°He said... his current performance deserves a bigger, better club.¡±


    His tone was flat, as if it didn¡¯t hurt at all.


    Everything clicked into place.


    Why had Tan Chen, despite everything going according to his plans, met such a tragic end in the book¡ªsuccumbing to his injuries?


    Because a teammate had abandoned him at the worst possible moment.


    Sheng Quan had only meant to offer a few words of comfort, but she couldn¡¯t help sighing.


    She knew this feeling all too well.


    Focusing on external challenges, only to be betrayed by someone you trusted.


    Before she¡¯d grown thick-skinned, she¡¯d experienced it herself¡ªpouring everything into mentoring a newcomer, only for them to turn around and try to climb over her the moment they gained footing.


    Backstabbing was common in the workplace, and Sheng Quan had long since grown numb to it. She could accept it from anyone¡ªexcept the one she¡¯d personally nurtured, the one who¡¯d gushed "Thank you, Sis Quan! You¡¯re the best!"


    At the time, it had devastated her. She¡¯d been afraid to mentor anyone new for a long while, needing time to rebuild her confidence.


    Of course, even in her pain, she hadn¡¯t been idle.


    She¡¯d returned the newcomer¡¯s betrayal tenfold, then cheerfully watched as they were shown the door.


    But it had still stung. Hell, she¡¯d even get attached to a goldfish.


    Clearly, Tan Chen was still in that wounded stage.


    Sheng Quan: ¡°Well, his loss. Breaking Waves will become the biggest and best club.¡±


    Tan Chen¡¯s voice was barely audible: ¡°That¡¯s... what I told him too.¡±


    He sounded like he was on the verge of collapse.


    Sensing something was off, Sheng Quan asked, ¡°Where are you right now? Have you been drinking? Did you eat?¡±


    ¡°No drinking. No food. Just... getting some air.¡±


    Sheng Quan, well-versed in these signs: Either he¡¯s pulling an all-nighter or he¡¯s sick.


    She pressed further: ¡°Looks like it¡¯s about to rain. Do you have an umbrella?¡±


    Tan Chen glanced at the broken umbrella beside him, its Team Breaking Waves logo still visible.


    ¡ª"Take your damn umbrella back! Tell Chen Mo and the others to stop acting like I¡¯ve wronged them. From now on, you¡¯re on your own!"


    ¡ª"All that talk about ¡®protecting us¡¯ by limiting transfers and matches? You just didn¡¯t want us to succeed!"


    ¡ª"Yeah, you trained me. But I¡¯m this season¡¯s Rookie King. Did you really expect me to rot in a place where the whole team shares one decent setup?"


    ¡ª"Sky War Club has seven rigs, including an E3. They¡¯re offering me a spot¡ªwhat would you choose? Thanks for everything, Tan-ge, but this is just how the world works. I can still make it to Globals with them. Without me, Breaking Waves can¡¯t even field a full roster."


    The umbrella had been snapped violently, its broken frame clattering to the ground before its owner slowly picked it up.


    Tan Chen closed his eyes, pushing Bai Xiangyuan¡¯s words away. ¡°The umbrella¡¯s broken.¡±


    Sheng Quan: ...That sounds familiar.


    She was pretty sure she¡¯d once broken an umbrella in similar weather.


    Tan Chen¡¯s tone was eerily calm, though his words were disjointed¡ªmaybe mistaking Sheng Quan for a sponsor who¡¯d called earlier:


    ¡°Don¡¯t worry. Breaking Waves will compete in the next match.¡±


    ¡°All partnerships will proceed as agreed. If you want to terminate, we¡¯ll discuss it tomorrow. Thank you. Goodbye.¡±


    The call ended.


    Sheng Quan was now certain: Tan Chen was not in his right mind.


    She glanced at the darkening sky. ¡°Is it about to start pouring?¡±


    Jiang Lu, standing behind her, followed her gaze to the gathering storm clouds. ¡°Within five minutes.¡±


    Sheng Quan: Getting caught in the rain whenever something heartbreaking happens¡ªwhat kind of protagonist trope is this?


    But then again, Fangcheng has always been a rainy city, so it somehow makes sense.


    She closed the window and said to He Xi, who was working at the small desk:


    "Contact the ''Let¡¯s Travel Together'' program team and ask them to look around for Tan Chen nearby. He should still be around the filming location. Have them check on his current condition."


    Tan Chen was a highly responsible person. In a situation like this, he would never stray too far from the rest of the team. He might¡¯ve even calmly reassured everyone before slipping away to deal with his emotions alone.


    He Xi agreed and had just found the program team¡¯s contact information when she saw Sheng Quan¡ªwho usually hated going out in the rain¡ªsuddenly stand up and stride toward the door:


    "Never mind. Just ask them where they¡¯re filming right now. I¡¯ll go there myself."


    Jiang Lu silently followed behind, picking up the coat Sheng Quan had forgotten and gently draping it over her shoulders.


    He Xi quickly caught up while contacting the program team, her eyes lingering on the tall man¡¯s gesture of placing the coat over Sheng Quan.


    The assistant, who aspired to be Sheng Quan¡¯s right-hand woman, nodded to herself: This is good. I should learn this too.


    Next time something like this happened, she¡¯d definitely remember to bring Sheng Quan a coat.


    Sheng Quan never liked going out in the rain. Back when she was betrayed by a newcomer, she was still young and inexperienced, suffering blows to both her emotions and career. The pressure of work weighed heavily on her, and she struggled to survive in the big city without even a single friend to confide in.


    So on one rainy day, she found herself clutching a bottle of alcohol under the awning of a barbecue stall, silently crying.


    Between sobs, she cursed inwardly.


    The stall owner noticed and, assuming she¡¯d been through a bad breakup, kindly handed her a skewer of grilled chicken hearts. The taste of those skewers stayed with Sheng Quan to this day.


    Holding the skewer and looking at the kind woman, Sheng Quan suddenly broke down into loud, ugly sobs. The stall owner comforted her for a long time.


    Later, when she finished eating and headed home, she had brought an umbrella¡ªbut as if misfortune truly came in waves, hers turned out to be just as useless as Tan Chen¡¯s.


    Well, technically, it wasn¡¯t broken. It might¡¯ve been too close to the grill while she ate, because it ended up with a large burnt hole in it.


    In the end, she walked home under that ruined umbrella, feeling the rain drip through the hole onto her head. Thank goodness there were hardly any pedestrians on the streets that day.


    Her memory was just too good.


    Every time it rained, she¡¯d recall the image of herself wailing like a child.


    Looking back on it now was like digging up the cringey Mary Sue fanfiction she¡¯d secretly written in school¡ªthe kind where "the heroine had rainbow-colored hair"¡ªand wanting to crawl into a hole out of sheer embarrassment.


    Back ?????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????when she was just a corporate drone, she had no choice. Rain or shine¡ªhell, even if it were hailing knives¡ªshe had to clock in for work.


    But now that she was the chairwoman, Sheng Quan refused to suffer unnecessarily. If the rain got too heavy, she simply wouldn¡¯t go out. If she had to, she¡¯d wait for it to lighten up.


    Strictly speaking, this was the first time since her transmigration that she¡¯d stepped out in such a downpour.


    Surprisingly, it didn¡¯t feel too bad.


    Sheng Quan figured it was because Jiang Lu was right beside her, holding the umbrella and shielding her from the wind.


    Jiang Lu was truly professional¡ªhe even blocked the splashing raindrops for her.


    Fangcheng was a small city.


    Sheng Quan quickly reached the program team¡¯s filming location and just as easily found Tan Chen.


    Tan Chen wasn¡¯t crying.


    He leaned against a wall, sitting on the steps as if lost in thought.


    Though he wasn¡¯t directly in the rain, his white dress shirt was already half-soaked from the windblown drizzle. A short strand of hair clung damply to his forehead, and the flushed hue of his cheeks made it obvious he was running a fever.


    Despite the fever, Tan Chen¡¯s expression remained as composed as ever. He even slowly lifted his gaze to look at Sheng Quan before sluggishly shifting to the side¡ªas if making room for her to pass through the back door.


    Then, Sheng Quan handed him an umbrella.


    "Here. This one¡¯s not broken."


    Hearing the familiar voice, Tan Chen froze, blinking slowly.


    His lashes were long, now damp with rainwater, making his usually sharp eyes appear fragile. "...You¡¯re... Wo Jiangshan?"


    Sheng Quan marveled. As expected of a pro gamer¡ªhis recognition skills are top-tier. Even burning up like this, he can still tell who I am.


    Tan Chen gradually processed the situation. He looked down at his phone, then back up at Sheng Quan. "You were the one who called me earlier."


    "You were worried about me? Thank you."


    After expressing his gratitude, he paused for another two seconds before adding, "You¡¯re in Fangcheng too? What a coincidence."


    Then, as an afterthought: "Thank you."


    Sheng Quan: "You¡¯re just realizing that?"


    How high is his fever? Good thing she¡¯d brought a doctor along.


    As for why she had a personal physician tagging along on her trip to Fangcheng¡ªand why the doctor was willing to come¡ªthe answer was simple: business trip bonus.


    Sheng Quan hadn¡¯t just brought a doctor, though. She¡¯d also picked up something else along the way.


    By the time the doctor took his temperature, Tan Chen had regained a bit of clarity.


    When he turned to Sheng Quan, the girl pressed something into his hand.


    He looked down: a skewer of grilled chicken hearts¡ªcompletely out of place in this situation.


    Sheng Quan: "You haven¡¯t eaten, right? Have this, then get some proper rest."


    Tan Chen stared at it for a long moment before finally taking a bite.


    Sheng Quan asked, "How is it?"


    His voice was muffled. "Disgusting."


    Sheng Quan refused to believe it. How could any grilled skewer possibly taste bad?


    She turned and grabbed another skewer from He Xi.


    One bite later, Chairwoman Sheng immediately made a face.


    "Bleh! No wonder that stall had the least customers!"


    How do you even mess up grilled skewers?


    She refused to eat any more.


    Meanwhile, Tan Chen¡ªwho had called it disgusting¡ªlowered his head and quietly continued eating, one bite after another.


    A tear fell. Then another.


    "Thank you."


    Hearing the slight tremble in his own voice, he took a deep breath, trying to steady himself:


    "Sorry. I¡¯m being unprofessional."


    "It¡¯s fine."


    Sheng Quan patted his shoulder. When he lifted his teary eyes to look at her, she nodded understandingly:


    "Totally get it."


    "Anyone would cry after eating something this bad."

 Chapter 88

    After taking his medicine, Tan Chen dozed off for a short while.


    The nap was brief, yet filled with countless dreams.


    In them, he relived the gloom of leaving DE, the reluctance of seeing Bai Xiangyuan give up, and the hardships of building Team Breakwater from scratch¡ªscenes from the past flickering one after another.


    The final dream was of him, FirmGrip, and BlazingFlame raiding a dungeon together. He rode atop a crane, freely embracing the wind as endless mountains and rivers stretched below.


    It had been such a joyful time, having those two friends by his side. Sadly, he knew such happiness wouldn¡¯t return.


    Tan Chen slowly opened his eyes.


    The sterile scent of disinfectant hung in the air¡ªclearly, he was in a hospital. Someone must have found him delirious with fever and brought him here.


    He couldn¡¯t believe he¡¯d dreamed something as absurd as FirmGrip appearing in real life, offering to invest in their team.


    And perhaps because he¡¯d been reading too much news about Star Wars lately, in his dream, FirmGrip had the face of the famously wealthy CEO Sheng Quan.


    Dreams truly were boundless. He¡¯d even dreamed Sheng Quan treated him to grilled chicken hearts¡ªso unbearably salty that he¡¯d begged for water.


    Tan Chen chuckled at himself. How could he dream something so impossible?


    Who was Sheng Quan? A heavyweight in the entertainment industry, with countless A-list stars under her belt. She¡¯d invested in hits like The Cultivator and Star Wars, and even the variety show Team Breakwater was filming here only because Star Wars had put Fangcheng on the map.


    With a self-deprecating smile, Tan Chen admitted he must be truly desperate to dream like this.


    The dream¡¯s sensations even lingered¡ªhis throat felt parched, as if he¡¯d actually eaten those salty chicken hearts.


    He shifted slightly, reaching for water, when suddenly someone handed him a cup.


    "Here, drink some water?"


    Startled, he reflexively thanked them and sat up. As he took the cup, his gaze landed on Sheng Quan sitting across from him, holding a teacup.


    The tea leaves on the table looked familiar¡ªprobably the show¡¯s head director¡¯s prized stash. The man usually rationed them meticulously.


    Sheng Quan set down her cup. "You¡¯re awake. Feeling better?"


    Tan Chen: "..."


    His eyes darted to the head director seated beside her.


    The usually stern, perpetually busy man¡ªwho¡¯d barely spared him a glance before¡ªwas now beaming at him warmly.


    Just yesterday, the director had solemnly informed him that Bai Xiangyuan¡¯s refusal to continue filming meant Team Breakwater might be cut from the show.


    "Captain Tan, you know how it is. In games like Polaris, the bot lane draws the most fans. With Bai Xiangyuan gone, the show¡¯s appeal will drop."


    Back then, Tan Chen could only listen silently. The director wasn¡¯t wrong¡ªBai Xiangyuan¡¯s departure was a breach of contract, one Tan Chen had signed off on.


    The director had been sympathetic, acknowledging Tan Chen¡¯s struggles: "The Global Championship is a team event. How can you compete missing a player? We¡¯ve waived the penalty fee, but we¡¯ll have to replace you..."


    That conversation had been one more weight on Tan Chen¡¯s shoulders.


    Now, the director radiated paternal warmth despite being barely fifty. "Ah, Captain Tan! You¡¯re finally awake!"


    "You collapsed from fever¡ªgave me quite a scare! Thank goodness CEO Sheng was here. You really must thank her."


    "And you never mentioned you two were gaming friends! Strawberry TV and our network are practically siblings¡ªwhy keep it a secret?"


    Tan Chen, suddenly drowning in enthusiasm: "..."


    The unflappable captain, who¡¯d endured every hardship without complaint, was now thoroughly stunned.


    FirmGrip was the Sheng Quan.


    Sheng Quan was in Fangcheng.


    BlazingFlame had told her about his situation, and she¡¯d come to find him.


    And now, she wanted to invest in Team Breakwater.


    Tan Chen touched his forehead. "Am I still feverish?"


    Sheng Quan smiled. "No, your fever¡¯s gone."


    "Get up. If you¡¯re willing, we can review the contract."


    Of course Tan Chen was willing.


    He read the terms.


    After finishing, he looked up, eyes brimming with gratitude and disbelief. "This is... too generous."


    A seasoned player in the industry, he¡¯d seen countless team contracts. Sheng Quan¡¯s offer was easily among the most favorable¡ªthe kind even top-tier clubs would leap at, let alone a struggling squad like Breakwater.


    "Because I believe you¡¯ll win the Global Championship."


    Sheng Quan made no secret of her motives.


    "¡®Expecting horses to run without feeding them only leads to ruin.¡¯ You taught me that."


    Tan Chen had indeed said those words¡ªback when Sheng Quan was learning about esports, and he¡¯d cynically described how clubs exploited players. Never had he imagined she¡¯d remember them, appearing as his savior in his darkest hour.


    The contract felt weightless in his hands, yet carried the gravity of a thousand promises.


    He knew full well how the world saw Breakwater: a no-name team fresh off a loss, missing a player. That Sheng Quan¡ªa mere gaming acquaintance¡ªwould extend such a lifeline...


    "Thank you."


    Unlike his feverish mutterings earlier, these words held profound sincerity. His eyes stung slightly, perhaps from lingering illness.


    With red-rimmed eyes, the young man met Sheng Quan¡¯s gaze. "I won¡¯t betray your trust."


    Outside, the director peered through the window, slapping his thigh excitedly as Tan Chen signed. "It¡¯s done! They signed!"


    A baffled assistant blinked. "Why are you so happy? It¡¯s Captain Tan¡¯s deal with CEO Sheng."


    "Fool! Don¡¯t you know her reputation? The Golden Touch!"


    The director looked ready to float away. "Everyone she backs skyrockets! Breakwater just hit the jackpot!"


    "We can benefit from this too! Back when Strawberry TV was on the brink of collapse, it was Chairman Sheng who single-handedly saved it. Just wait and see¡ªTeam Breakwater is about to rise! And now they¡¯re joining our variety show. Ahhh!! What incredible luck!"


    The assistant suddenly understood and got excited too. But as his excitement grew, his eyes widened in realization:


    "Wait, Director, the withdrawal of Team Breakwater has already been reported. The approval process is probably almost done. Doesn¡¯t our station have a rule that once something¡¯s reported, it can¡¯t be changed?"


    The director, however, remained completely unruffled.


    He chuckled. "Kid, you¡¯re still too young."


    If it were anyone else, changing the report might indeed be impossible. But for Chairman Sheng?


    After Strawberry TV¡¯s revival, other stations congratulated them on the surface, but secretly, they were green with envy.


    With the rise of online platforms, traditional TV stations had been struggling. The big ones might still be fine, but everyone else envied Strawberry TV for suddenly gaining a major backer like Sheng Quan.


    Sure enough, as soon as the director made the call, the leader¡ªwho had just dealt with another headache¡ªwas furious at first:


    "Change it? The approval¡¯s already through! How am I supposed to change it for you? I¡¯m so mad I can¡¯t even¡ªugh! You people drive me up the wall every single day!"


    But the moment he heard that this little esports team had just been signed by Sheng Quan, the leader¡¯s rage suddenly fizzled out.


    In fact, before it vanished completely, it even sprouted a little flower of joy.


    "Chairman Sheng... you mean the Sheng Quan from Starlight Entertainment?"


    "The one who invested a hundred million in Strawberry TV? Didn¡¯t she just buy a luxury mansion recently, the kind worth billions?"


    The director replied smugly, "Yes, Chairman Sheng has high hopes for Breakwater. It seems she¡¯s planning to enter the esports industry¡ªrumor has it she¡¯s already in the process of buying a club. They just signed the contract, and they¡¯re currently at our filming location."


    The leader cut him off. "Say no more. I¡¯ll change it right away."


    "Listen, you have to take good care of Chairman Sheng. If she doesn¡¯t want to appear on camera, don¡¯t force her. And that team¡ªwhat¡¯s their name again?"


    "Team Breakwater."


    "Right, Team Breakwater. Give them as much screen time as possible. Let Chairman Sheng see our sincerity. This opportunity is too rare¡ªyou must seize it. Even if she doesn¡¯t invest in the show, just her backing Breakwater will benefit us."


    The ten-minute call spent only one minute on changing the report. The remaining nine were the leader excitedly instructing the director to ensure Sheng Quan felt "welcomed like royalty" (though the term didn¡¯t quite fit) and to make her feel their station¡¯s warmth and hospitality.


    After hanging up, the director felt refreshed.


    He could already envision their show becoming as explosively popular as "Sing with You."


    Right now, all he could think about was taking care of Chairman Sheng, taking care of Tan Chen, and taking care of the rest of Team Breakwater. Speaking of which¡ªBai Xiangyuan. Tch. If only he knew that right after he left, Breakwater gained such a powerful backer... Hahahaha!


    Though he barely knew Bai Xiangyuan, the director couldn¡¯t help but dislike him.


    After mentally gloating for a bit, he suddenly remembered:


    "Did those kids from Breakwater finish their livestream? Before I came over, they looked so worried when they heard Tan Chen was sick. Hurry, the livestream should be almost over¡ªlet them come see him. Poor things, they¡¯re just kids."


    The assistant hesitated.


    Weren¡¯t you the one who said they couldn¡¯t leave during work hours and had to wait until it was over?


    Though internally complaining, he obediently went to fetch them.


    The group of anxious youngsters practically sprinted into the room.


    "Tan-ge!"


    "Tan-ge, are you okay?"


    "They said you fainted."


    "Tan-ge, let me see¡ªwas it because of that bastard Bai Xiangyuan? Don¡¯t be upset, Tan-ge. He¡¯s not worth it."


    Sheng Quan watched as Tan Chen was swarmed by the chattering, concerned youngsters and couldn¡¯t help but laugh, remembering the "mother hen and chicks" comparison from earlier.


    Chen Mo, who had been wholly focused on Tan Chen, finally noticed someone else in the room. When she looked up, her eyes nearly popped out of her head.


    "Sh-sh-sh-sh..."


    Zhou Ke, a slightly older teammate, followed her gaze. "Sh what... Sheng Quan?!"


    That shout could rival an opera singer¡¯s high note.


    Sheng Quan resisted the urge to cover her ears and waved at them. "Hello."


    "Let me introduce myself¡ªfrom now on, I¡¯m your boss."


    The ?????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????group: "..."


    Sheng Quan. Their boss?!


    The chairwoman of Starlight Entertainment was saying she¡¯d be their boss?!


    Their boss for Team Breakwater?!


    Chen Mo was stunned, so overjoyed she could hardly believe it.


    She turned to Tan Chen. "Coach! Is it true?!"


    Tan Chen nodded.


    Chen Mo froze for a second, then timidly called out, "B-boss?"


    Sheng Quan nodded.


    Chen Mo: AHHHHHHHH!!!


    Other teammates: AHHHHHHHH!!!


    Chen Mo pulled out her phone. "I¡ªI¡¯m posting this! I want Bai Xiangyuan to see!!"


    "No need."


    Sheng Quan stopped her, smirking mischievously.


    "He¡¯ll see it."


    That day¡¯s trending hashtag: #ShengQuanSpends3BillionToAcquireDEChina¡¯sLargestEsportsClub#


    Renamed: Breakwater.

 Chapter 89

    "Holy shit!!! President Sheng, did you really buy DE? For real?!"


    "That¡¯s DE we¡¯re talking about!!!"


    "Damn, that¡¯s insane!"


    Ever since the news broke, Sheng Quan¡¯s social media accounts had been flooded with messages¡ªmost of them congratulating her or expressing shock that she¡¯d managed to acquire DE.


    And the purchase price? A mere three billion.


    Three billion was a staggering sum, but this was DE we were talking about.


    The saying that esports and entertainment each held half the entertainment industry wasn¡¯t just empty talk. DE, the largest esports club in the country, was worth far more than three billion.


    To put it into perspective, just the land DE occupied and the specialized esports facilities they¡¯d built were enough for Sheng Quan to recoup her investment.


    And that wasn¡¯t even counting the fact that this was a bundled deal¡ªall the expensive equipment and high-value players were included.


    Unsurprisingly, the news sent shockwaves through the entire esports industry.


    Rumors had been circulating for a while that the domestic esports scene was struggling. Major clubs were trapped in a vicious cycle: no victories meant no profits, reduced profits led to pay cuts or layoffs, and that in turn made victories even harder to come by.


    But no one expected DE, the club that had seemed the most financially secure, to be the first to bow out.


    And no one could¡¯ve predicted that Sheng Quan would be the one to take over.


    Sheng Quan was more than satisfied with the outcome. After returning to Xingmang, she leisurely strolled to the break room, poured herself a glass of juice, and flopped onto her favorite beanbag chair with a contented sigh.


    "After all these days of work, it¡¯s finally done," she said to Gu Zhao.


    In the past, rewards from the lottery system had been handled by 006, requiring little effort on her part. But mission funds were a different story¡ªeverything had to be managed personally.


    Once she¡¯d gathered all the necessary information, she sent a delegation to negotiate with DE.


    The key reason the deal succeeded? Sheng Quan wasn¡¯t desperate for DE, but DE had no other buyers as wealthy and willing to "jump into the pit" as she was.


    Back when esports was booming, DE had been riding high. They¡¯d not only bought land to build their club facilities but also splurged on constructing buildings tailored specifically for esports.


    Ironically, the very excellence of these facilities meant that the only viable buyers were those looking to break into esports. Otherwise, the flashy, purpose-built structures would have to be completely renovated¡ªa costly endeavor.


    Even if a buyer was willing, how many could actually fork over billions in cash?


    DE could¡¯ve held out for a better offer, but they simply didn¡¯t have the time.


    Esports was notoriously expensive. Forget the facilities¡ªjust maintaining the teams, substitutes, trainees, and highly paid coaches was a massive drain.


    Then there were the behind-the-scenes costs: operations, data analysts, team doctors, esports agents, psychologists, and so on. The bigger the club, the more people it had to support. It was a lot like film production¡ªonce things got rolling, money burned by the second.


    Despite hemorrhaging funds daily, DE hadn¡¯t originally planned to sell. They¡¯d even invested heavily in new competition-grade equipment after the global tournament rules changed this year.


    "They waited too long to bow out," Gu Zhao remarked, sipping his coffee at the counter. "But your timing couldn¡¯t be better."


    Gu Zhao had been involved in the acquisition from the start. He¡¯d always believed buying DE would be easy¡ªironically, their attempts at "reform" had only hastened their downfall.


    Even though Gu Zhao never watched esports, he knew one thing: the heart of it was the players. DE¡¯s obsession with flashy equipment was pointless.


    Without victories, all those expensive gadgets did was drive costs higher.


    Sheng Quan agreed. "If they hadn¡¯t sabotaged themselves, I wouldn¡¯t have picked them."


    Her motto was "go big or go home," but she wouldn¡¯t have bought the country¡¯s top club if it hadn¡¯t been the perfect fit.


    And yet, here it was¡ªsnagged at the perfect price. Sheng Quan took a satisfied sip of juice.


    DE¡¯s past recklessness¡ªtreating talented players as disposable cash cows and destabilizing the market¡ªhad finally come back to bite them.


    There was no reviving DE now. If they didn¡¯t want to drown in debt, they had no choice but to sign Sheng Quan¡¯s acquisition offer.


    Of course, they were still relieved. In a collapsing market, having a deep-pocketed buyer like Sheng Quan step in was a last-minute lifeline.


    This year¡¯s global tournament looked grim. If China¡¯s esports scene continued its downward spiral, escaping unscathed would be impossible.


    Cutting their losses now was painful, but better than total ruin.


    In short, they had zero faith in Chinese teams winning this year. To them, Sheng Quan was a heaven-sent sucker.


    President Sheng¡¯s response? "Thanks, I think you¡¯re the suckers here."


    With both sides convinced the other was getting scammed, negotiations dragged on for over a month before finally settling.


    When the news hit the hot searches, outsiders saw it as just another spectacle. But within the esports world, clubs were green with envy.


    Executives envied DE¡¯s last-minute escape.


    Everyone else marveled at the sweeping changes underway at the newly rebranded [Riptide Club], where President Sheng¡¯s spending made even DE¡¯s old extravagance look tame.


    During this esports winter, times were tough for everyone.


    DE had repeatedly slashed player salaries and staff pay due to financial struggles.


    But under Sheng Quan? Not only were cuts reversed¡ªsalaries rose by 5%.


    "And that¡¯s not all. Rumor has it President Sheng bought DE because she¡¯s a fan of some no-name team. She bought the whole club just for them."


    "That sounds like her. Remember when she threw money at a drama adaptation just to cast her favorite novel character?"


    "Oh yeah, Yan Hui! My little sister adores him!"


    While outsiders gawked, insiders were already gossiping.


    And the juiciest rumor of all? "President Sheng drops billions for a tiny team."


    "A tiny team? Wait, is this about Riptide?"


    "Is Sheng Quan really a Riptide fan?"


    "No way! Wasn¡¯t Riptide dirt poor? If it¡¯s them, this is like a phoenix rising from ashes!"


    DE¡¯s rebrand to Riptide instantly linked them to the obscure Riptide team.


    With team names being unique, China only had one "Riptide." Add in the rumors, and speculation ran wild.


    Not only were the players buzzing, but the esports fans were also in an uproar.


    Especially the fans of the Breaking Waves team¡ªthey were downright ecstatic.


    ¡¾Breaking Waves!!! Is it really our Breaking Waves?!¡¿


    ¡¾I think this rumor is a bit far-fetched. No matter how rich someone is, it¡¯s unlikely they¡¯d spend billions just because they like a small team, right? This is the biggest club in the country we¡¯re talking about.¡¿


    ¡¾To the comment above: If it were anyone else, I¡¯d agree. But if it¡¯s Sheng Quan... I kinda believe it.¡¿


    ¡¾Checked out Breaking Waves¡¯ past records¡ªthis team is actually pretty solid. No idea why they only gained fame this year, though.¡¿


    ¡¾If I remember correctly, Bai Xiangyuan just left Breaking Waves, right? I thought this tiny team with no substitutes would be forced to withdraw, but wow, talk about a plot twist.¡¿


    Bai Xiangyuan stared at the flood of new comments on his screen, his expression shifting constantly.


    ¡°Bai Xiangyuan.¡±


    Someone called him from the doorway. He looked up to see Zhang Heng, the star bot laner Sky Battle Club was grooming, standing there with another player, their arms slung over each other¡¯s shoulders. They smirked at him.


    ¡°You just left Breaking Waves, right? So, is it true Sheng Quan bought DE just for them? Is she really a fan of Breaking Waves?¡±


    Bai Xiangyuan¡¯s already dark expression grew even stormier.


    ¡°How many times do I have to say it? There¡¯s no way. Their fan club doesn¡¯t even have a minor sponsor¡ªhow could they attract someone like Sheng Quan?¡±


    ¡°You never know,¡± Zhang Heng chuckled. ¡°Maybe she showed up after you left. Seen the latest news online? Someone dug up that Sheng Quan was in Fangcheng and even attended the offline event for Stellar War.¡±


    The younger player beside him grinned. ¡°Sheng Quan¡¯s a big name in the entertainment industry. She probably knows directors or producers from that show. One thing leads to another, and boom¡ªshe gets familiar with Breaking Waves.¡±


    Though they didn¡¯t say it outright, every word felt like a jab at him: You missed out on a tycoon.


    Regret flickered across Bai Xiangyuan¡¯s face, but he stubbornly insisted, ¡°Impossible. A small team like Breaking Waves would never catch Sheng Quan¡¯s eye.¡±


    ¡°Breaking Waves isn¡¯t small. If they weren¡¯t so impressive, why would Sky Battle poach you in the first place?¡±


    Before leaving, Zhang Heng added, ¡°Oh, by the way, all the training equipment¡¯s booked today. If you want to use it, you¡¯ll have to wait and see if you can squeeze in a session tomorrow or the day after.¡±


    Bai Xiangyuan frowned in disbelief. In Breaking Waves, as the team¡¯s primary attacker, he¡¯d always had priority access to equipment. ¡°I¡¯m an attacker. Don¡¯t I get priority?¡±


    ¡°Wait, you haven¡¯t checked the official updates, have you? Sky Battle has eight attackers. Whether it¡¯s experience or skill, you¡¯re at the bottom of the priority list.¡±


    Zhang Heng smirked. ¡°But don¡¯t worry. Heard you kept complaining that Tan Chen was sidelining you in Breaking Waves, not letting you play in loan matches. Well, at Sky Battle, you¡¯ll definitely get loaned out.¡±


    ¡°As for equipment... if you¡¯re lucky, you might get a Series-1 setup. The Series-3 rigs? Sky Battle barely has any. You probably won¡¯t touch one this year.¡±


    The words dripped with sarcasm.


    And honestly, it was deserved. The pro players at Sky Battle didn¡¯t like Bai Xiangyuan much.


    Before he joined, they¡¯d been indifferent. Most of them were young and didn¡¯t know much about Breaking Waves, a minor team.


    But Bai Xiangyuan couldn¡¯t stop talking.


    No loan matches. No arena battles. Training cut off strictly on schedule.


    It was like listening to an employee who¡¯d been overworked, underpaid, and gaslit by their boss suddenly whine:


    My old boss only let me work seven hours a day, wouldn¡¯t let me overtime, gave me transport, meal, and housing allowances¡ªbut I think he was just stifling my talent!


    Zhang Heng and the other young players, all victims of Sky Battle¡¯s grind: Go to hell!


    As they scrolled through their phones, seeing the flood of updates about the Breaking Waves Club¡¯s player benefits, a thought began to take root.


    If Sheng Quan really signed Tan Chen... didn¡¯t that mean she shared his philosophy?


    What if they could join Breaking Waves...


    Meanwhile, ?????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????Bai Xiangyuan, oblivious to his teammates¡¯ growing desire to defect to his old team, kept refreshing Breaking Waves¡¯ official page.


    He saw countless comments asking if Sheng Quan naming the club ¡°Breaking Waves¡± had anything to do with them.


    It can¡¯t be.


    No way.


    No way they hit the jackpot right after I left.


    Even if Breaking Waves was absorbed into the club, with so many teams out there, they¡¯d never be prioritized, right?


    Finally, a new post appeared.


    It was a repost¡ªBreaking Waves didn¡¯t say much, just two heart-eyed emojis.


    The key was the original post, from the newly registered Breaking Waves Esports Club, complete with a photo.


    Bai Xiangyuan¡¯s gaze locked onto Tan Chen standing in front of the most expensive E3 rig in the shot.


    His name was even prominently displayed: ¡¾No Chase¡ªTan Chen¡¿


    Breaking Waves Esports Club:


    ¡¾Main team Breaking Waves has arrived. Elite players deserve elite gear¡ªpersonal E3 setups for each! @BreakingWavesTeam¡¿

 Chapter 90

    The fact that Sheng Quan actually bought the club because of that small team, Po Shui, sent shockwaves through the entire esports community!


    Compared to Sheng Quan acquiring DE, this news was even more explosive.


    After all, not everyone can spend three billion to buy the largest domestic club, but small teams like Po Shui¡ªbarely known, lacking funds and sponsors¡ªare as common as weeds in China!


    When something they wouldn¡¯t even dare to dream of actually happened to a team just like theirs, the sense of identification skyrocketed. And the fans of these small teams reacted just as passionately.


    [Ahhhh!!! I once dreamed that President Sheng would invest in our esports scene, and now it¡¯s come true!!! (attached: screenshot of a comment from a year ago)]


    [President Sheng¡¯s moves are as bold as ever.]


    [As we all know, rich people don¡¯t make losing investments. For Sheng Quan to enter the scene during this esports downturn¡ªcould this mean Chinese esports is finally getting saved?!]


    [Wake up, dude. Chinese esports is struggling because we can¡¯t win tournaments. How could one wealthy person possibly change that?]


    Among all the fans, the happiest and most overjoyed were undoubtedly Po Shui¡¯s supporters.


    Though Sheng Quan¡¯s first encounter with Po Shui fans was during a heated argument, the fanbase was actually quite loyal. Despite lacking big sponsors, they were extremely active.


    Aside from the extreme fans that every team has, most of Po Shui¡¯s supporters quietly cheered them on online.


    They knew their team was small, so while they longed for victories, they mostly stayed out of the public eye, sticking to fan groups.


    Perhaps like team, like fans¡ªPo Shui¡¯s supporters often discussed the team¡¯s career development. Even though many of them had no professional esports background, that didn¡¯t stop them from seriously drafting all sorts of strategic plans.


    ¡ªThe Right Path for Po Shui to Survive and Thrive.


    ¡ªWhich Teams to Challenge for the Best Shot at a Season Slot.


    ¡ªPo Shui¡¯s Five-Year Development Plan in the Current Esports Landscape.


    They didn¡¯t just analyze Po Shui¡ªthey studied their opponents, major clubs, and even domestic and international trends.


    When Sheng Quan infiltrated the fan group and saw the meticulously detailed analysis files in the group archives, she truly understood the meaning of ¡°like team, like fans.¡±


    Tan Chen was the same way. Despite his aggressive playstyle in-game, every small step Po Shui took was backed by carefully prepared contingency plans.


    Naturally, this included backup plans for when players couldn¡¯t compete for various reasons.


    Every member had their own designated ¡°substitutes¡±¡ªsome were from Po Shui¡¯s sparse training roster, others were Tan Chen¡¯s former teammates, and a few were retired players who had switched careers.


    But Bai Xiangyuan¡¯s substitute couldn¡¯t just be someone who could coordinate well.


    A man in the midst of quitting smoking had a lollipop dangling from his lips. His slender fingers, which showed no outward signs of injury, gently traced over the massive E3 equipment in front of him.


    His name was printed on it.


    ¡°Po Shui¡¯s tactics have always revolved around the attacker. Individually, the players are just average, but their long-trained synergy and teamwork maximize the attacker¡¯s potential.¡±


    Sheng Quan was no longer a gaming novice. She raised an eyebrow. ¡°So that¡¯s why Bai Xiangyuan won Rookie of the Year¡ªbecause your tactics funnel most of the spotlight onto him.¡±


    ¡°Exactly.¡± At the mention of Bai Xiangyuan, Tan Chen¡¯s eyes darkened¡ªnot with hatred, but with something closer to mocking foresight. ¡°Tian Zhan¡¯s playstyle is completely different from Po Shui¡¯s. They won¡¯t sacrifice the entire team to prop up one person.¡±


    Both of them could already see Bai Xiangyuan¡¯s fate.


    He wasn¡¯t some once-in-a-generation prodigy. Once stripped of the spotlight Po Shui had given him, unable to dominate under familiar tactics, Bai Xiangyuan would fade back into mediocrity. And how would his new team treat him then?


    They didn¡¯t dwell on the topic. Compared to Bai Xiangyuan¡ªwhose fate had been sealed the moment he betrayed Po Shui¡ªSheng Quan and Tan Chen were far more focused on the upcoming tournament.


    Every other player had two or three potential substitutes, since not all of them were from Po Shui.


    But Bai Xiangyuan had only one: Tan Chen himself.


    ¡°When I first drafted this contingency plan, I never imagined I¡¯d be subbing in at the World Championship.¡±


    Tan Chen stared at his hands. Fully aware of what awaited him, he still lifted his head and gave Sheng Quan a faint smile.


    ¡°Don¡¯t worry. I can at least hold out until the finals.¡±


    Originally, he might not have even lasted that long. But now, with the full backing of a massive club, a team doctor, and even access to high-end training equipment, things were already far better than he¡¯d ever expected.


    Whether it was his hunger for victory or his gratitude toward Sheng Quan, Tan Chen couldn¡¯t possibly give up this chance to compete.


    Po Shui would never surrender.


    Besides, ?????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????he was already retired. Even if his hands could never touch a game again after the finals, it would still be worth it.


    Sheng Quan suddenly added, ¡°Oh, did I forget to mention? Dr. Micks, the specialist in esports injuries, officially joined us today.¡±


    Tan Chen¡¯s sharp, shadowed eyes widened. ¡°Dr. Micks... from Country C?¡±


    It was almost absurd. Despite China¡¯s booming esports industry, the country had never developed the same level of specialized medical care for gaming-related injuries as other nations.


    Most major clubs never spent money on proper treatment for injured players. Instead, they¡¯d have team doctors suppress the pain while squeezing every last drop of performance out of the players before their injuries became irreversible.


    Once a player¡¯s condition deteriorated to the point of being unplayable, the club would discard them without hesitation.


    Some players ended up with slightly more decent clubs¡ªat least they¡¯d receive a payout, plus their previous earnings, making their years of effort not entirely in vain.


    But those unlucky enough to land in shady organizations would be milked dry, down to the bone, with some clubs even coming up with the brilliant idea of charging players ¡°membership fees.¡±


    With player health being so neglected, the medical field for esports injuries naturally didn¡¯t advance domestically. And since treatment wasn¡¯t available locally, players had to go abroad¡ªwhere prices were even steeper.


    Thus, the entire industry fell into a vicious cycle: treatment was expensive ¡ú clubs refused to pay ¡ú treatment became even more expensive.


    For Chinese esports players, receiving consistent, effective treatment was nothing short of a pipe dream.


    Tan Chen had once longed for his hands to be healed, so he understood the difficulty better than anyone.


    Seeing even the usually unshakable Tan Chen visibly stunned, Sheng Quan grinned.


    ¡°Yes. That Dr. Micks.¡±


    "Captain Tan, if this news gets out, wouldn¡¯t our Breaking Waves instantly become the top choice for all esports players looking to join a club?"


    Tan Chen had already steadied himself. His reply was firm: "Absolutely."


    Sheng Quan¡¯s gaze lingered on his elegant hands. "But before that, you should focus on recovering from your injury."


    Tan Chen had already guessed as much, yet he couldn¡¯t help but look up at the young woman before him. His eyes held disbelief, rationality, and finally, a cautious gloom:


    "My kind of injury is too expensive to treat. You might not know this, but I¡¯ve looked into it¡ªit¡¯s impossible to fully recover. At best, I¡¯d regain seventy percent of my condition, so..."


    "So that¡¯s why Dr. Micks is joining us." Sheng Quan cut off Tan Chen¡¯s trembling words. She looked at him just as she had that day when she handed him an umbrella: "Because only she can push for that seventy percent."


    Tan Chen¡¯s expression froze in surprise.


    Sheng Quan: "Heal your hands, win the championship. Can you do it?"


    The usually composed captain, who hadn¡¯t even turned twenty-six but carried himself like a man in his forties, felt the corners of his eyes redden again.


    His lips trembled slightly, his gaze fixed solely on her. Tan Chen heard his own voice, rough with emotion, reply:


    "Yes. I can."


    Realizing his answer carried a hint of barely concealed emotion, he quickly turned his head away, took a deep breath, and steadied his voice before adding:


    "Thank you."


    "You always seem to be thanking me."


    Sheng Quan chuckled, lightly patting the equipment. "Your training is on hold for now. Focus on your treatment first."


    "As for Breaking Waves, we¡¯ll need a substitute who can hold their own until the semifinals. I know it¡¯s tough, but you must have someone in mind, right?"


    She knew better than anyone¡ªdespite Tan Chen¡¯s outward image of "Breaking Waves just grinding in silence," he was secretly a master of tactical preparation.


    Even during the team¡¯s early training phases, Tan Chen had them practicing against the strategies of the top-performing teams.


    That was one of the reasons Sheng Quan had chosen him as their leader.


    He knew every team, every player¡ªpast and present. Even the most obscure, overlooked squads were meticulously researched the moment they appeared.


    He was a bit like Yu Xiangwan in that regard.


    Always with backup plans, contingencies¡ªthough for Yu Xiangwan, it was part of his job as a producer.


    Tan Chen, however, was just a coach.


    So just how far would his future go?


    But before that, Sheng Quan had other futures to reshape.


    True to form, Tan Chen was reliable. He swiftly listed potential candidates, all of whom Breaking Waves could easily recruit.


    One of them was even already at the club.


    "He and Bai Xiangyuan debuted around the same time. The difference is, he¡¯s a true genius."


    Sheng Quan smirked. Praising Han Yu while taking a dig at Bai Xiangyuan¡ªvery fitting for the "grudge-holding gamer" stereotype.


    Tan Chen pointed at a name on the list. "Han Yu is the type of genius who thrives on team synergy. He¡¯s had incredible performances before, but after being forced into a role swap due to tactical changes, he¡¯s been inactive for over half a year."


    "But don¡¯t worry. His adaptability in team battles is exceptional. He¡¯ll have no problem holding his own until the semifinals. Plus, we can build a new team around his strengths later."


    "And regarding your earlier plan for a new team, I¡¯ve already compiled a list of candidates, along with their specialties and skill distributions..."


    Former DE Club player dormitory.


    With the new management overhaul, the players couldn¡¯t help but worry about being replaced¡ªall except Han Yu.


    At this point, being replaced or not made no difference to him.


    Rumors said Breaking Waves needed an attacker, and many were eager to fill the spot. But Han Yu wasn¡¯t interested.


    It wasn¡¯t like they¡¯d pick him anyway.


    He was reviewing match footage when someone banged on his door: "Han Yu! Han Yu, are you in?! Get up! Captain Tan is looking for you!"


    Captain Tan? The same Tan Chen who¡¯d been handpicked by Chairwoman Sheng to lead their training, now the boss of all players¡ªwas here for him?!


    Han Yu¡¯s heart pounded as he shot to his feet. Outside stood Tan Chen, whose imposing physique stood out even among the fitness-obsessed esports crowd.


    His pulse raced as he heard the words he¡¯d longed for:


    "Come with me. Chairwoman Sheng wants to see your team-fighting skills."


    That day, many others received calls too.


    A pro player had just finished a solo match, massaging his sore wrist while mentally calculating his rent. He sighed¡ªuntil a friend sprinted over, phone in hand:


    "Qing Lv!! It¡¯s Breaking Waves Club!!"


    In a bustling city, a woman mechanically ate takeout while replying to client messages. The wall behind her displayed photos of her glory days¡ªtrophies, records, relics of her most passionate youth.


    Now, she didn¡¯t even have time to glance at them.


    Her phone rang.


    She braced herself¡ªanother client or boss, no doubt¡ªbut the moment she answered, her expression shifted.


    "You want me as a coach? Tan Chen, are you serious?"


    "I¡¯m in. Of course I¡¯m in. I¡¯ve been dying to quit this damn job!"


    In a small livestreaming room, a young girl gamed expressionlessly for her modest audience. Suddenly, a private message popped up:


    "Lang Zhong, come back. The club¡¯s under new management¡ªthat jerk who sidelined you got kicked out. You know the new boss? Sheng Quan! You love her, right? Turns out she¡¯s a fan of yours too! Today she mentioned regretting your retirement and told us to bring you back."


    The victory screen flashed. For the first time in forever, emotion flickered across the girl¡¯s stoic face.


    Sheng Quan wanted her back?!


    She shot to her feet. "Sorry, cutting stream early today. My idol called¡ªcelebrate for me, hahaha! Gotta go!"


    True to her assassin main, she vanished in a flash.


    The stream was left empty, viewers bewildered.


    "??? We¡¯d love to celebrate!!"


    "But you didn¡¯t even end the stream!!!"

 Chapter 91

    No one expected that after Sheng Quan acquired the club, even before any large-scale public promotion, the term "Sheng Quan Summons" would skyrocket in popularity across major platforms.


    ["Received the Sheng Quan Summons, dropped the cold noodles I was making, and rushed to buy a train ticket to get here."]


    ["You ?????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????think that''s something? I was mid-haircut when I got the summons¡ªnow I''m on the road with the salon''s equipment still on me."]


    ["Didn¡¯t even finish my bathroom break, just booked the next flight!"]


    Some netizens unfamiliar with the esports scene stumbled upon the trend, confused: ["I know Sheng Quan, but what¡¯s this ''Sheng Quan Summons'' about?"]


    Eager fans quickly jumped in to explain.


    [Your Third Grandpa]: ["You¡¯re out of the loop, huh? Let me enlighten you. Ever since Chairwoman Sheng bought the nation¡¯s top esports club, she¡¯s been summoning players from all corners¡ªsome from rival teams, some retired, some who¡¯ve never even competed before. It¡¯s like a grand gathering of heroes!"]


    ["There¡¯s this one guy who was working overseas¡ªdropped everything and flew back the moment he got the summons. Another had already quit the scene, swore he was done, but changed his mind instantly. And then there¡¯s the legend who went home to inherit the family business, only to ditch it all when the summons arrived, packing his bags in a heartbeat."]


    The buzz started when netizens learned about the recalls through a streamer named Lang Zhong. Her longtime followers knew she¡¯d once been a pro player for DE, hailed as the season¡¯s breakout star.


    But after clashing with management, Lang Zhong paid her penalty fee and quit DE. Whether out of disillusionment or not, she never joined another team, turning to streaming instead.


    Everyone knew Lang Zhong had sworn off pro gaming after that incident¡ªyet when Sheng Quan called, she abandoned her live stream mid-session and sprinted out the door.


    That was just the beginning. After Lang Zhong, more retired or school-bound former pros answered the summons. One resigned from his job abroad and flew home; another, now a barbecue stall owner, was filmed by customers tossing his apron aside and bolting.


    As these summoned players went viral, later recruits didn¡¯t need third-party recordings¡ªthey filmed themselves. Within four days, "Sheng Quan Summons" became a full-blown meme.


    And, as always online, once something trends, content creators swarm to amplify it. Soon, influencers were compiling these stories into hilarious summaries. The phrase "summons" itself carried a fervent and delightfully nerdy energy, pulling in even those who¡¯d never cared about esports.


    Esports, which had been fading in China for years, suddenly seemed revitalized by the hype.


    An unexpected bonus.


    When Sheng Quan initiated the recalls, she hadn¡¯t planned for this viral twist. But promotion isn¡¯t always about meticulous, step-by-step strategies¡ªsometimes, it¡¯s about riding the wave.


    Left alone, the meme might¡¯ve fizzled in days. But with a push? Different story.


    Soon, "Sheng Quan Summons" dominated trends, spawning countless parody videos, many set to the iconic bgm from The Cultivator¡¯s summoning arc.


    The internet never lacks talent.


    Sheng Quan stumbled upon one particularly creative skit: two girls, clearly on a budget, had stuck leaves to their foreheads and draped bedsheets as robes. They stood on a "flying sword" (a TV screen scrolling landscape footage), selling the illusion of soaring through the skies.


    Their deadpan urgency somehow nailed the ethereal vibe of cultivators:


    "Senior Sister, the Millennium Spirit Blossom blooms once a century for just two hours. Can we make it?"


    "Fear not, Junior Sister. My calculations say if we journey without pause, we¡¯ll claim the blossom in time."


    "Then I¡¯ll rest easy!"


    Their solemn faces froze at a sudden eagle¡¯s cry. A wooden plaque dropped into the "Senior Sister¡¯s" hand.


    Her eyes widened. "What?! The Sheng Quan Summons?!"


    "What?! The Sheng Quan Summons?!"


    The "Junior Sister" paled. "No! Senior Sister, stay strong! The Spirit Blossom is right there!"


    "Forgive me, Junior Sister... No one can resist the summons!"


    The "sword" screeched to a halt. The "Senior Sister" leapt off, heaving the whole setup into a U-turn toward an air conditioner labeled "Tidal Esports Club."


    The video was laughably low-budget. But their acting? Flawless. The "Junior Sister¡¯s" heartbreak, the single tear trembling in her eye¡ªit somehow felt like a drama cliffhanger.


    Most viewers would just hit like/share/subscribe.


    Chairwoman Sheng? "Check if they¡¯re signed. If they¡¯re open to acting, Starlight Entertainment should scoop them up. Potential¡¯s there."


    "See if they fit any roles in the current project too."


    He Xi nodded, taking the tablet to relay the orders.


    Meanwhile, Sheng Quan dove back into club paperwork. New assets always demand chaos at the start¡ªbut chaos meant profit was coming.


    With hype this high, companies were lining up to partner with the club.


    Yet Sheng Quan wasn¡¯t rushing for traditional esports revenue.


    First, the club was funded by task capital¡ªno need to scramble for operational costs. Second, her own Starlight Entertainment had plans to collaborate with esports.


    Exactly: collaborate.


    Why had DE rather taken losses than stay? Because esports was losing its spark, the market shrinking. When profit paths crumble, survival means cutting losses.


    But Sheng Quan wasn¡¯t playing by those rules.


    No matter how many ventures she launched, her core remained Starlight Entertainment. Esports monetization might seem narrow, but at its heart? It mirrored entertainment:


    Hype. Fandom. Love.


    "So, when I own both an entertainment empire and an esports club, why not let them elevate each other?"


    Post-meeting, she headed to Tianying Studios to brief Tan Hongguang on the next steps.


    "Making a movie related to the game? Yes, rest assured, we¡¯ll follow your requirements closely."


    Tan Hongguang was quite familiar with these matters, but he still asked, "But if it involves Polar Region, have you secured the rights?"


    Sheng Quan turned her laptop toward him: "Don¡¯t worry, I¡¯ve acquired permanent shares in Polar Region. According to their regulations, that automatically grants me all necessary authorizations."


    Tan Hongguang suddenly understood.


    A news headline he¡¯d once skimmed flashed through his mind¡ª"Gaming Tycoon Spends 200 Million in a Single Day on In-Game Purchases"¡ªand he blurted out, "Was that player who spent 200 million you?"


    "You¡¯ve been preparing for this since back then?!"


    As soon as the words left his mouth, he realized it was a silly question. Wasn¡¯t he already familiar with Chairman Sheng¡¯s style? She always thought ten steps ahead with every move she made.


    After the release of Stellar Wars, Starlight Entertainment¡¯s subsidiary, Sky Shadow, had skyrocketed to fame. The special effects company, which many in the industry had initially dismissed as reckless for its ambitious scale right out of the gate, was hiring again within just a year.


    Just as Sheng Quan had predicted, Stellar Wars became Sky Shadow¡¯s biggest advertisement. The more people loved it, the more domestic and international production teams clamored to work with Sky Shadow for their special effects.


    Clients complaining about high prices? Long wait times? These were the very issues that had crushed countless effects companies, but for Sky Shadow, backed by Sheng Quan¡¯s resources, they were non-issues.


    Tan Hongguang now looked five years younger. Though streaks of silver still threaded through his hair, his energy and demeanor were entirely different.


    Much like Sky Shadow itself, he had always been low-key but tirelessly diligent, quietly completing task after task with unwavering dedication.


    He had no objections to Sky Shadow fully collaborating with Riptide Club and Starlight Entertainment this time.


    While conflicts sometimes arose between parent companies and subsidiaries elsewhere, all of Sheng Quan¡¯s enterprises¡ªwhether large or small, industry leaders or fledgling startups¡ªmaintained remarkably harmonious relationships among employees and management alike.


    The main reason? There was always some form of collaboration happening between them.


    Though Sheng Quan¡¯s companies varied wildly in size, industry, and stage of development, she had a knack for creating win-win¡ªor even win-win-win¡ªsituations.


    Take Tan Hongguang, for example. Sky Shadow and Starlight Entertainment¡¯s Stellar Wars had been a win for both.


    The film¡¯s explosive box office success had made Sky Shadow an overnight sensation.


    This time, however, Tan Hongguang had one lingering doubt:


    "Chairman Sheng, isn¡¯t the investment a bit too large for this?"


    He was a gamer himself, and after Sheng Quan acquired DE, he¡¯d rushed to brush up on esports knowledge¡ªjust in case. After all, he¡¯d learned from the last company meeting that even the executives overseeing her instant noodle factory were well-versed in every detail of her ventures.


    Not one to fall behind, Tan Hongguang followed suit. Now, with a rough understanding of esports profitability, he couldn¡¯t help but question:


    "If this movie is produced, relying solely on box office returns and the esports club¡¯s revenue, won¡¯t the gap between investment and returns be too wide?"


    This didn¡¯t seem like Chairman Sheng¡¯s usual approach.


    Sheng Quan smiled. "Did you forget what I said? This is a joint project."


    She leaned back in her chair, her expression brimming with determination. "And ¡®joint¡¯ doesn¡¯t just mean the three of you working together."


    Tan Hongguang: "?"


    Aside from their three companies, were there others under Sheng Quan¡¯s umbrella that could participate in this project?


    The instant noodle factory??


    Sheng Quan gestured for him to check the project proposal in his hands. "Take a look at the movie¡¯s genre."


    Tan Hongguang glanced down. "Full-dive gaming?"


    His eyes widened in shock as the realization hit him. He looked up at Sheng Quan in disbelief.


    "Full-dive?!!!"


    In the research institute under Sheng Quan¡¯s name, Ning Zhou rose from the full-dive simulation pod.


    Slowly, he lifted his hand and removed the transparent visor covering his pale face. Turning to his assistant, who was practically vibrating with excitement, he said:


    "Notify Chairman Sheng."

 Chapter 92

    The roar of a helicopter echoed across the sky, drawing the gazes of passersby below.


    "Damn, that''s one cool helicopter!"


    "Is it Sheng Quan? I think I¡¯ve seen it in the news¡ªhers looks just like that."


    "Not necessarily. Wasn¡¯t she in H City?"


    A young man walking by glanced up and confidently chimed in, "It¡¯s hers. She comes here often¡ªwe¡¯d recognize it anywhere."


    The other two passersby suddenly understood and quickly pulled out their phones to snap photos of the sleek helicopter soaring overhead. The young man also recorded a clip and immediately sent it to his dorm group chat:


    "Sheng Quan¡¯s here! Wonder if she¡¯ll drop by the campus. Fingers crossed!"


    Yes, this young man was a student at C University.


    That "Senior Sheng Quan" wasn¡¯t just a joke. Ever since Sheng Quan generously invested in numerous research projects at the school, the students who¡¯d received funding had gradually begun producing results over time.


    Of course, not every student could match Gu Shuyue¡¯s rapid breakthroughs or her years of accumulated potential.


    But these were talents who¡¯d gone through rigorous selection to secure funding from C University¡¯s entire student body. Even the slowest among them had made some progress.


    In ?????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????two years, these already outstanding students seized their opportunities, showcasing their abilities in full. Some had even been recruited by national agencies, while the rest could confidently be called "boundless in prospects."


    Most importantly, Sheng Quan kept her promise. In the new year, she selected another batch of students, providing them with project funding and platforms to shine.


    For those who chose to stay and work at Starlight Technology after their achievements, she welcomed them wholeheartedly. Those who preferred other research institutes or government positions? She let them go without hesitation.


    At first, some might¡¯ve suspected Sheng Quan was just grandstanding. But as time passed, more and more people came to believe her support was genuine.


    After all, pouring hundreds of millions into this every year? That was practically charity.


    Some might¡¯ve thought Sheng Quan¡¯s disregard for money was outrageous, but C University¡¯s students, fellow researchers, and even senior military and political figures certainly didn¡¯t see it that way.


    Here was a young returnee wholeheartedly supporting the nation¡ªpromoting Chinese culture through film, boosting tourism, creating countless jobs, stepping up during disasters, and advancing scientific research.


    Strictly speaking, these high-ranking admirers of Sheng Quan had never even met her face-to-face. But that didn¡¯t stop them from respecting her.


    At the very least, Gu Zhao had mentioned to Sheng Quan that since she began backing research, Starlight Entertainment¡¯s government-approved projects had been processed noticeably faster.


    An unexpected bonus behind the scenes.


    As for the visible perks? The overwhelming goodwill from C University¡¯s faculty and students topped the list.


    Every time Sheng Quan visited the campus, students would greet her with cries of "Senior!" The moment her distinctive helicopter was spotted, the school¡¯s group chats would buzz with excitement. You¡¯d think C University was her alma mater.


    But today, Sheng Quan wasn¡¯t heading to the school.


    The helicopter landed smoothly on a cleared patch of ground at the research institute. Jiang Lu stepped out first, scanning the surroundings before turning to help Sheng Quan down.


    It was lunchtime at the institute, and most students paused mid-meal or crowded by the windows at the commotion.


    "So cool..."


    No matter how many times they saw it, someone would always murmur those words.


    Especially when Sheng Quan strode forward after removing her sunglasses, exuding effortless charisma, trailed by a team of tall, stern bodyguards. The scene was more cinematic than any movie.


    A young woman couldn¡¯t help but gush, "Chairman Sheng is just unreal."


    The reality? Sheng Quan was practically vibrating with excitement as she hurried forward, firing questions at the assistant jogging to meet her:


    "It¡¯s really ready? Weren¡¯t we saying it¡¯d take at least six more months?"


    Full dive VR!


    Actual full dive VR!


    Outwardly: Cool, composed, striding ahead like a boss.


    Inwardly: Ready to have Jiang Lu carry her sprinting to the prototype pod.


    Most internet-savvy young people had probably dreamed of a world where full dive VR existed. In her past life, Sheng Quan had often joked, "Just let me see it before I kick the bucket."


    Because a full dive world was essentially a second reality. The depictions in sci-fi? It was like transporting a human soul into another living, breathing universe.


    Way more immersive than regular VR. Even the best VR gaming rig Sheng Quan used now still felt clunky at times.


    In Starlight Wars, there¡¯d been a plotline where the protagonist, Gu Li, failed to escape unscathed¡ªending up stranded in a parallel world 3,000 years in the past, his body immobilized.


    At this point in Hua Country, medical technology was far from achieving what would be possible three thousand years later. They couldn¡¯t cure Gu Li, but by leveraging the bits of technology he brought with him, they eventually made a breakthrough¡ªcreating a fully immersive holographic world for him.


    In reality, Gu Li could only lie motionless on a hospital bed, but in the holographic world, he could move freely, run, and jump to his heart¡¯s content.


    ¡ªThis was the power of holography.


    Of course, Sheng Quan was well aware that no matter how much of a genius Ning Zhou was, and no matter how much money she poured into the project, he couldn¡¯t possibly recreate the kind of holographic technology seen in movies within just two years.


    In the original novel Starlight, this technology was still in its infancy¡ªthough it was also possible that Ning Zhou, the mastermind behind it, hadn¡¯t lived long enough to develop it further before succumbing to illness.


    But that didn¡¯t matter. They already had the foundation¡ªwhy worry about the process and results not following smoothly?


    Besides, this time, Ning Zhou was alive and well. Not only did he have two senior colleagues looking after him, but Sheng Quan had also assigned him five assistants the moment he made his first small breakthrough, covering every aspect of his life and work. He even had a nutritionist planning his meals.


    While other employees at the company underwent annual health checkups, Ning Zhou was dragged in for one every three months.


    With plenty of experience dealing with "fragile" employees, Chairman Sheng was determined: There¡¯s no way he¡¯s dying young this time.


    And now, all she could think was: Let me at it! Let me experience holography firsthand!


    She arrived at the highest-security laboratory at twice her usual speed.


    Ever since the first signs of success had appeared, Sheng Quan had been itching to install eight hundred surveillance cameras here. The security company had stationed over a dozen guards along these two corridors alone, working in shifts around the clock.


    Some might argue that she was being overly cautious¡ªthat her heavy-handed measures might draw unnecessary attention. But Chairman Sheng didn¡¯t care. When it came to critical projects, she insisted on foolproof protection.


    If firearms weren¡¯t banned in Hua Country, she would¡¯ve armed them with all kinds of heat weapons.


    After successfully entering three layers of passwords, the heavy door swung open, and Sheng Quan¡¯s eyes immediately landed on the holographic pod¡ªnot Ning Zhou, who stood beside it.


    Normally, Chairman Sheng made a point of checking in on her employees. Even though Ning Zhou wasn¡¯t technically her employee, she always made time to visit him during her trips to the research institute (mostly to ensure he was in good health).


    But come on¡ªhow could anyone resist the allure of a holographic pod?


    Her gaze was practically glued to the massive pod, which took up nearly half the room.


    To be honest, it looked a bit clunky¡ªfar from the sleek, futuristic aesthetic one might expect.


    But that didn¡¯t stop Sheng Quan and Ning Zhou from staring at it with identical expressions of reverence.


    "Can I try it now?"


    Sheng Quan was practically vibrating with excitement.


    Ning Zhou nodded. After two years of careful recuperation, he no longer looked as gaunt as before. His once-pale complexion had gained color, and his overly thin frame had filled out slightly.


    Though he still wasn¡¯t much of a talker, he had clearly grown comfortable around Sheng Quan¡ªso much so that he actually stepped closer to her when she arrived.


    He never initiated conversations, yet this time, he spoke up unprompted:


    "This... is really impressive."


    His usually expressionless face, which often made him seem aloof, now carried a hint of uncharacteristic earnestness¡ªalmost eager.


    Sheng Quan nodded emphatically, her eyes practically sparkling as she stared at the pod. "It¡¯s amazing! Ning Zhou, you¡¯re a genius! How did you even manage to build a holographic pod in such a short time?!"


    Ning Zhou gave a small nod. He didn¡¯t smile, but his posture relaxed noticeably, shedding the cold detachment he usually carried.


    His two senior colleagues and assistants weren¡¯t surprised.


    Ning Zhou¡¯s trust in Sheng Quan hadn¡¯t appeared overnight¡ªit had been built over two years of her visiting him, talking with him, and supporting every one of his ideas, no matter how outlandish.


    Ning Zhou was a genius, but not all his ideas panned out. Many were wildly unconventional, and over those two years, countless funds had been poured into projects that ultimately went nowhere.


    He struggled with emotional expression, but he knew when his decisions led to massive losses. Back then, the entire research team had worried that Sheng Quan would pull the plug¡ªafter all, they¡¯d already burned through so much money and equipment.


    But the first thing Sheng Quan said when she flew in was: "Ning Zhou, have you been skipping meals again?"


    Ning Zhou, who had been anxiously trying to figure out how to explain the situation, froze on the spot.


    So did his equally nervous colleagues.


    In the end, Sheng Quan treated them all to hot pot.


    Though it might seem odd for someone of her wealthy status to host a dinner at a hotpot restaurant, there was no denying that the familiar setting helped the visibly nervous students finally relax.


    Ning Zhou sat beside Sheng Quan, quietly eating from his personal mild broth pot. During meals, he would always carefully pick up a bite of food, unhurriedly lower his long lashes, and blow on it¡ªonce, twice... four times. Only after exactly four blows would he finally place the food in his mouth, chewing with deliberate focus before swallowing. In these moments, he paid no attention to anyone or anything else.


    But that day in the hotpot restaurant, Ning Zhou couldn¡¯t help stealing occasional glances at Sheng Quan, who was enthusiastically devouring food from the extra-spicy chili broth while hissing and puffing from the heat.


    It was as if he was curious... or perhaps just watching her.


    From that day on, the young man¡ªwho had always been unwilling to engage in anything outside his research¡ªwould slowly inch closer to Sheng Quan whenever she visited the institute.


    Just like now.


    Sheng Quan practically wanted to pour out a lifetime¡¯s worth of praise onto Ning Zhou. After showering him with enthusiastic compliments, she eagerly lay down inside the holographic pod under his guidance.


    She had a rough idea of how far Ning Zhou¡¯s research had progressed. After all, the original novel had described it.


    Of course, in this life, with ample funding and a team of assistants, his progress would differ from the previous timeline. But scientific research wasn¡¯t something Sheng Quan expected to advance too quickly.


    Until she tried the holographic pod.


    The pod door opened, and Sheng Quan sat up, slowly removing the visor.


    She truly hadn¡¯t expected Ning Zhou¡¯s potential to be this staggering.


    This wasn¡¯t just the early stages of holography¡ªit was nearly on par with the kind seen in sci-fi films!


    And no, she didn¡¯t want to hear about how much this prototype cost. This wasn¡¯t about money!


    This was about technology! Innovation!


    Prices could drop as development progressed, but groundbreaking tech like this was one-of-a-kind.


    Wait... no, it was still about money. This holographic tech, combined with her plans...


    Sheng Quan: Holy hell, we¡¯re gonna make a killing!


    He Xi, noticing Sheng Quan¡¯s pensive expression after she sat up, quickly stepped forward to help her out.


    "Chairman Sheng, how was it?"


    Sheng Quan still looked somewhat dazed, but she quickly snapped back to reality, gazing at Ning Zhou and his team with nothing short of awe.


    "It was... beyond expectations."


    Way beyond. She suddenly felt the urge to strangle the original author¡ªhow dare they kill off a genius like this?! She really should¡¯ve cursed them out more back then.


    "How soon can we mass-produce it?"


    Ning Zhou: "Six months."


    Sheng Quan glanced around the heavily secured room, then at the guards posted outside. She paused mid-step.


    "No, no, no."


    While the others were still wondering what Chairman Sheng meant, she took the phone He Xi handed her and dialed a number.


    Sheng Quan was about to prove, once again, just how cautious she could be.


    Elder Qin, the retired division commander currently enjoying tea and TV at the security training base, answered her call:


    "Advisor Qin, can you get in touch with the national authorities?"


    Elder Qin: "Huh???"


    "The kind that requires top secrecy?"


    Elder Qin: "What?!"


    Still on the phone, Sheng Quan looked back at Ning Zhou, who was watching her with bright, expectant eyes.


    "Well... there¡¯s someone here who might need protection with... firearms."

 Chapter 93

    Whether in her past life or this one, Sheng Quan had learned one recurring lesson through experience: better safe than sorry.


    Ning Zhou''s holographic project wasn¡¯t exactly top-secret, nor was her research institute particularly hidden¡ªsome professors from C University even occasionally used its labs.


    But dismissing caution with phrases like "there''s no need to be so careful" was out of the question.


    If Sheng Quan were still a student yet to enter the workforce, experiencing the incredibly lifelike holographic world might have first made her think, "This would make such an amazing game!"


    But Sheng Quan wasn¡¯t a student.


    She knew all too well just how significant relatively mature holographic technology could be.


    Holography wasn¡¯t just for gaming.


    Even after investing massive funds and recognizing Ning Zhou as a genius, President Sheng hadn¡¯t expected such a staggering breakthrough¡ªthis was supposed to be just the preliminary phase.


    Though her assets were now counted in the billions, the scale of this development was too vast for her to handle alone.


    She now completely understood why the original novel described Ning Zhou as "carefully guarded by the state." If a genius like him so much as scraped his knee in her institute, she¡¯d be beside herself with worry.


    Sheng Quan didn¡¯t deliberate for long before deciding to call for backup.


    The person she called, Elder Qin, was left speechless after hearing her out.


    He hadn¡¯t known much about holographic technology before, but the hype around Interstellar War hadn¡¯t fully faded yet. Every trainee in their base had gone to see it during leave to show support¡ªElder Qin included.


    "You mean the kind of holographic tech from Interstellar War? The kind that¡¯s almost indistinguishable from reality, creating an entirely separate world?"


    His voice trembled as he spoke.


    Still on the phone, Sheng Quan kept her gaze fixed on Ning Zhou. "It¡¯s not as advanced as the movie¡¯s version, but the foundation is there."


    "You understand how crucial this technology is."


    Elder Qin certainly did.


    After hanging up, he immediately contacted his former superior.


    Going through the usual bureaucratic channels would have taken ages, but with Elder Qin¡¯s involvement, things moved swiftly¡ªone of the reasons Sheng Quan had reached out to him in the first place.


    She knew the importance of holographic tech, as did the retired superior he contacted, and so would the higher-ups the superior reported to.


    An hour and a half after the call, two military trucks pulled up outside the institute.


    Soldiers armed with live ammunition efficiently secured every entrance, lab, and especially the room housing the prototype holographic pods. Those stationed near the pods were equipped with visibly more advanced gear.


    By the time they arrived, Sheng Quan¡ªwho had already briefed the authorities in a concise yet thorough exchange¡ªwas holding a meeting with the entire research team in the main conference room.


    The agenda? Everyone would likely need to sign confidentiality agreements.


    As mentioned before, this institute was exclusively for Ning Zhou and his team. Other projects received separate funding, but this was the only one Sheng Quan had been directly overseeing.


    Back when she made that decision, part of her reasoning had been "easier to keep it under wraps." She just hadn¡¯t expected it to become relevant so soon.


    The ?????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????students, who had been happily eating earlier, first witnessed President Sheng¡¯s dramatic entrance, then were called into the meeting. Just as they were buzzing with excitement over the confidentiality agreements, the conference room door swung open.


    Assistant He stepped in, followed by a sharp-looking woman, and behind them, the hallway was lined with armed soldiers.


    The students: "..."


    Fully armed soldiers?!


    Their earlier excitement¡ª"Wow, confidentiality agreements, this is so cool!"¡ªgave way to the dawning realization that their research project had just escalated.


    Frankly, every student there knew how groundbreaking their work was. Ning Zhou was a genius, but they were no slouches either¡ªwithout their contributions, Ning Zhou would¡¯ve been driven to exhaustion.


    Still, their expectations had been modest: monetary rewards from President Sheng, maybe some credentials for those hoping to join state research institutions.


    But now, the state had come to them.


    This wasn¡¯t how their seniors had described the process!


    Once Sheng Quan left, the previously well-behaved students immediately broke into hushed discussions.


    "What¡¯s going on? Weren¡¯t we already in a confidential phase? Why are the military here? How did they even find out?"


    "I¡¯m so pumped! Holy crap, this feels like we¡¯re in a movie!"


    "I wanna brag online so bad¡ªugh, no wonder they confiscated our phones earlier!"


    "Did we just catch the government¡¯s attention? Damn, this is epic! No wonder President Sheng suddenly brought up confidentiality agreements. I thought we¡¯d already signed one."


    "This is next-level. Does this mean I can skip grad school admissions?"


    One Senior Sister, more experienced with projects, said firmly, "Even if holographic tech is important, the state wouldn¡¯t swoop in the moment we hit Phase One success. It¡¯s not like we¡¯re developing something that threatens society."


    "This has to be President Sheng¡¯s doing."


    A classmate gasped. "President Sheng reached out herself? Doesn¡¯t she want to keep control of the tech?"


    Voluntarily involving the state meant sharing the fruits of their labor¡ªand the massive investment behind it.


    They didn¡¯t get it. In fact, the government team sent to assess the situation asked Sheng Quan the same question.


    Yes, a team.


    For something this significant, even a rushed response wouldn¡¯t involve just two or three people. The delegation included specialists from every relevant field.


    Sheng Quan was candid. "The success of this technology exceeded my expectations. Trying to manage it alone would only lead to chaos."


    She could have commercialized the holographic tech herself. Maybe no one would¡¯ve cared at first¡ªuntil she started raking in profits. Then, the world¡¯s attention would lock onto her.


    This wasn¡¯t like producing a blockbuster film. Every industry disrupted by holography would fight back¡ªsuppressing, stealing, poaching her researchers.


    And there was the bigger issue.


    "This technology won¡¯t just attract corporate interest. It will draw the attention of other nations. The applications in science and tech are too vast. I don¡¯t need an analyst to tell me what¡¯ll happen¡ªno person or country can resist that kind of temptation."


    Sheng Quan could handle corporate rivals. She could battle across industries.


    But going up against entire nations?


    She wasn¡¯t that reckless.


    Moreover, she felt that someone like Ning Zhou should be left to the nation for protection.


    At such a young age, he had already developed holographic technology. Sheng Quan had heard countless stories of young scientific geniuses in both her past and present life, but this was the first time she had actually encountered one in person.


    If anything were to happen to him under her watch, it would be an irreparable and colossal loss.


    During their phone call, Sheng Quan repeatedly emphasized that among all the researchers, Ning Zhou was the most crucial¡ªeven more so than the holographic pods themselves.


    The national team assured her: "Don¡¯t worry, we¡¯ve got it covered. We¡¯ve already secured him, ensuring not even a mosquito can get within a ten-mile radius."


    Ning Zhou, the person in question, was the calmest of them all, as it was already nighttime, and he had gone to bed right on schedule.


    ¡ªOutside his room stood rows of armed soldiers, weapons at the ready.


    Though their expressions gave nothing away, the national team actually held a favorable impression of Sheng Quan. Some had skimmed her profile beforehand, while others appreciated her proactive outreach to the government.


    Regardless, the fact remained that holographic technology promised enormous profits. The fact that Sheng Quan was willing to share the breakthrough with the nation as soon as it was achieved was enough to move anyone.


    Of course, they couldn¡¯t just take it without offering something in return.


    The team had come not only to verify the authenticity of the holographic pod technology but also to discuss compensation terms with Sheng Quan.


    This was something she had anticipated¡ªthe nation wouldn¡¯t let her suffer a loss.


    When she took the draft compensation agreement handed to her and read through it, her reaction was: ...This wasn¡¯t just avoiding a loss; it was practically handing her a windfall.


    "Isn¡¯t the compensation amount a bit too generous?"


    The generosity was almost on par with 006.


    "The compensation is a rough estimate based on preliminary calculations. This is just a general figure. You¡¯re welcome to propose additional terms for further discussion."


    "Of course, considering your involvement in the entertainment industry, if you require any administrative benefits in that regard, feel free to make requests. We¡¯ll do our best to accommodate them."


    ¡ªIn other words, everything was negotiable.


    Sheng Quan took a sip from her water glass and realized from the team¡¯s increasingly warm demeanor that, beyond substantial compensation, this deal would also grant her the nation¡¯s overt backing.


    Thrilled, she was about to agree immediately... but she didn¡¯t.


    After setting down her glass, President Sheng asked, "Regarding the compensation terms... could I have my company¡¯s negotiation team handle it?"


    Professional matters were best left to professionals.


    She didn¡¯t expect herself to cover every aspect of the company¡¯s operations. If not for confidentiality concerns, she would¡¯ve hired an evaluation team to maximize her gains.


    The leading official across from her smiled, clearly approving of Sheng Quan¡¯s approach.


    If Sheng Quan had agreed without a second thought, she wouldn¡¯t be the successful chairwoman overseeing so many thriving companies.


    "Of course, as long as a non-disclosure agreement is signed."


    "There¡¯s no rush either. We¡¯ll be staying here for at least three more days."


    As they spoke, a knock came at the door. A team member entered and whispered something to the official.


    Sheng Quan guessed it was about the experts testing the holographic pods¡ªthey must have finished.


    They were probably stunned.


    Having been shocked herself earlier, President Sheng thought with experience: Told you it was impressive.


    No wonder the official, after listening, turned to Sheng Quan with a look of admiration, no longer masking her feelings behind a composed smile.


    The holographic technology truly exceeded all expectations, just as Sheng Quan had claimed.


    Naturally, this only highlighted Sheng Quan¡¯s contribution to the nation.


    The official decided to report truthfully to higher-ups¡ªthis patriotic entrepreneur deserved even better treatment.


    Meanwhile, the patriotic entrepreneur President Sheng was busy calling in reinforcements.


    Starlight Entertainment¡¯s negotiation team was highly professional. For instance, when she had negotiated the DE Club deal, they were the ones sent in, securing a satisfying outcome.


    Now, it was time for them to shine again.


    Upon receiving the notification, the negotiation team rolled up their sleeves in anticipation.


    Every time President Sheng summoned them for talks, they received hefty bonuses, with additional rewards based on the results. It had to be said¡ªhaving President Sheng as their backer gave them unparalleled confidence at the bargaining table.


    With each victory, the team¡¯s morale soared higher. Their last triumph, negotiating a 30-billion acquisition of DE Club, was a career-defining achievement they could boast about for life!


    Although, as the chairwoman of an entertainment company, President Sheng''s ventures were surprisingly diverse¡ªone moment they were negotiating for a fermented glutinous rice flour snack company, the next for an esports club. But hey, they were professionals.


    And President Sheng¡¯s bonuses were undeniably generous.


    Now, faced with a new mission, the team buzzed with excitement. "President Sheng, who are we negotiating with this time?"


    Standing by the window, she replied, "The nation."


    The negotiation team: "..."


    "The nation??!!"

 Chapter 94

    The negotiation team from Sheng Quan¡¯s company arrived at the research institute, only to be met at the entrance by stern-faced military personnel standing guard.


    They: "..."


    Sometimes, they really forgot that the company they worked for was in the entertainment industry.


    Generally speaking, when Chinese people saw fully armed military or police officers, their first reaction was usually, "So cool," or "They make me feel so safe." But remembering that they were here to negotiate...


    They represented Starlight Entertainment. They represented President Sheng.


    No matter who the "opposing party" in the negotiations was, they had to remain professional. From the moment they received the call until now, they had been meticulously organizing and memorizing relevant information¡ªeven reviewing notes in the car on the way here. They were fairly confident.


    While internally burning with curiosity¡ªAre those real guns? What kind of equipment is that? They look so cautious.¡ªthey maintained an outward demeanor of "We¡¯re completely unfazed by this scene, totally calm."


    On the surface, the lead negotiator simply smiled faintly and unhurriedly presented their credentials. "Here are our documents."


    ¡ªThey even checked IDs, fingerprints, and facial recognition. Somehow, it felt thrilling, like they were part of something big.


    Once cleared for entry, the team followed their military escort down the wide path, taking in the heavily guarded surroundings¡ªsentries stationed every ten steps, an impenetrable defense where "not even a mosquito could slip through." Secretly exhilarated, they also felt a subtle swell of pride.


    How could they not feel proud? The company they served was negotiating directly with the government.


    ...Though it was a little strange for an entertainment company to be discussing compensation and benefits with the state over a research breakthrough. But then again, their bonuses had just tripled.


    From a distance, Sheng Quan could see her negotiation team walking with vigor, expressions steady, strides firm¡ªradiating confidence.


    She had initially worried that a team accustomed to commercial negotiations might struggle here.


    President Sheng nodded approvingly in her mind: As expected of the elite talent I handpicked and trained.


    Reliable!


    With the professional negotiation team taking charge, Sheng Quan successfully stepped back into a supporting role.


    While experts conducted meticulous retesting of the "holographic technology," the negotiation team embarked on a week-long marathon of discussions.


    This was normal. Though both sides were sincere, the stakes were high, and the details were numerous¡ªthis wasn¡¯t something that could be settled in a thirty-minute chat.


    For example, Starlight Entertainment originally had a comprehensive plan for holographic operations. Should they continue with it? If so, which specific branches of the holographic technology could they utilize?


    Which aspects could be further researched? Which ones involved military applications? The state would undoubtedly continue its own research, but that raised questions about the existing prototypes from the institute and the scientists who had contributed to the project.


    Sheng Quan was willing to release the researchers, but there was one problem: the key figure in all this, Ning Zhou, refused to leave.


    This took everyone by surprise.


    After spending just two days with Ning Zhou, anyone could see his obsessive dedication to research.


    His poor health in the past wasn¡¯t due to lack of exercise¡ªit was because, while he followed routines strictly in other areas of life, once he immersed himself in research, he forgot everything else. Skipping meals and rest was common.


    After Sheng Quan invested in him, she assigned him five assistants, and his two senior brothers also kept a close eye on him. Only then did his complexion regain its healthy glow, his body gradually strengthening.


    All along, Ning Zhou had given the impression that he would gladly go wherever provided the right research environment.


    "Wasn¡¯t joining a state department always your dream?" His two senior brothers were utterly baffled. "I remember our mentor saying that was your goal."


    This dream wasn¡¯t unusual¡ªmost students at C University shared the same aspiration.


    "It was."


    After two years of working together, Ning Zhou had grown more comfortable around his senior brothers, no longer avoiding their gaze when speaking.


    But now, he nervously averted his eyes, his fair, well-nourished face showing unease.


    "I don¡¯t... I don¡¯t want to go."


    After saying this, he turned to face the wall, refusing to turn back.


    This was a clear sign of anxiety.


    In the past, when Ning Zhou displayed this kind of distress, no one would respond. As a child, he had often felt this nervous, panicked emotion, but his family never offered comfort.


    Over time, these episodes only made him feel worse¡ªmore frightened, more unsettled.


    But he hadn¡¯t yet realized, due to his difficulties with communication and emotions, that things were different now.


    "It¡¯s okay, it¡¯s okay. If you don¡¯t want to go, you don¡¯t have to."


    The moment his senior brothers reassured him, one of Ning Zhou¡¯s ever-present assistants materialized beside him.


    "Don¡¯t worry, your wishes will absolutely be prioritized."


    As he spoke, the assistant handed Ning Zhou his phone.


    Ning Zhou disliked change, so he still used the same phone his parents had bought him when he started university. The good news was that by the time he enrolled, "dumb phones" were already obsolete¡ªthough this one was old and laggy, at least it was a smartphone.


    Sheng Quan had never forced him to upgrade (even though the phone was painfully slow, Ning Zhou didn¡¯t use social media anyway). She had bought him a phone case to cover the scratches on the back.


    The moment the phone was in his hands, Ning Zhou, who had just been visibly distressed, quickly calmed.


    He carefully traced the kitten design on the case and slowly turned back around. Seizing the opportunity, the assistant asked:


    "Do you want to work for a state department?"


    Ning Zhou nodded silently.


    The assistant: "Are you worried the new environment will feel too unfamiliar?"


    Ning Zhou shook his head.


    Then he lifted his gaze, still clutching his phone gently, and looked toward the meeting room. "Where¡¯s President Sheng?"


    The assistant: "President Sheng will be here soon. You can tell me¡ªit¡¯s the same."


    Ning Zhou glanced at him, then lowered his eyes again. "It¡¯s not."


    The assistant: "..."


    Ah~ Ning Zhou¡¯s way with words remained as unique as ever~


    Fortunately, Sheng Quan made a habit of checking in daily, and it wasn¡¯t long before she appeared, holding a glass of lemon water.


    Her communication style with Ning Zhou had always been direct¡ªand oddly enough, it worked smoothly.


    Sheng Quan cut straight to the point: "They say you don¡¯t want to leave. Why? Wasn¡¯t that your life goal?"


    Ning Zhou looked at her. This time, he was willing to set his phone down, but he couldn¡¯t articulate the reason himself. "I just don¡¯t want to go."


    Sheng Quan figured it out: "Is it because you feel the project isn¡¯t finished yet?"


    Ning Zhou thought for a second, then nodded. "I promised you I¡¯d achieve mass production."


    "I can complete it within six months."


    Ning Zhou finally realized why he had been reluctant to leave, feeling both happy and stubborn as he insisted, "We agreed on it first."


    This "we" referred to him and Sheng Quan.


    As for "they," it naturally meant the national research department he had always yearned to join.


    Sheng Quan wasn¡¯t the least bit surprised by Ning Zhou¡¯s way of thinking.


    But then again, it made sense¡ªNing Zhou had Asperger¡¯s syndrome. While the condition greatly affected his social interactions, it also made him more clear-minded than most people in some ways.


    To him, one was one, and two was two.


    He was the type who could bluntly say "I don¡¯t like you" to someone¡¯s face because, in his eyes, it was no different from stating "I¡¯m hungry" when his stomach growled.


    Sheng Quan didn¡¯t bother trying to reason with him or change his mind. This was a principle Ning Zhou had always upheld, and since there was no need to force him into anything, why break it?


    Still, President Sheng couldn¡¯t help suspecting that the tragic fate Ning Zhou suffered in the original storyline might not have been solely due to toxic materials¡ªperhaps he had also been deceived by others.


    After all, when they first met, he had already been answering questions with unwavering honesty. Now, after just two years of knowing each other, Ning Zhou had become like a trusting stray cat, willingly exposing his soft underbelly to her.


    If she had slightly less scruples, all she¡¯d have to say was, "Yes, we agreed first, so you should stay and keep working for me forever," and Ning Zhou would nod earnestly in agreement.


    Without even guessing, Sheng Quan knew that Ning Zhou must have gone through a lot in the original story.


    Like every fresh graduate stepping out of campus, naive and unsuspecting of others, he had offered his trust unreservedly¡ªonly to be seen as "easy to bully" or "easy to fool." Just like the unlicensed taxi drivers at train stations who prey on young, inexperienced faces.


    After being cheated and tricked a few times, most young people would quickly toughen up, just as Sheng Quan once had. But Ning Zhou¡¯s condition made it impossible for him to learn and adapt in this regard.


    President Sheng: So, it really is better to leave him under the state¡¯s protection.


    She gently patted Ning Zhou¡¯s shoulder, earning his trusting gaze in return.


    "Yes, we agreed first," she said. "So how about this¡ªonce mass production is possible, you can go report to the national department. Okay?"


    Ning Zhou¡¯s eyes lit up. Having this seemingly insurmountable dilemma resolved made him happy. "Okay."


    And so, negotiations extended for another round due to Ning Zhou¡¯s decision.


    Though Sheng Quan wasn¡¯t directly involved in the talks, nearly all the compensation terms required her approval. With eight meetings a day and various subsidiaries involved, even top executives like Gu Zhao had to participate.


    Amidst their bustling activity, employees at Starlight Entertainment couldn¡¯t help but wonder what was happening, especially seeing their usually low-profile management suddenly in constant motion.


    Their first thought: Is President Sheng up to something big again?


    Generally, as a company grows, employees tend to pay less attention to the chairman, especially one who doesn¡¯t micromanage. After all, "the distant magistrate is no match for the local official."


    Most workers care more about their immediate superiors than a chairman they rarely interact with.


    In some subsidiaries, employees might not even know their chairman or CEO¡¯s name. But at Sheng Quan¡¯s companies, she was undeniably a star figure.


    Her principles, generous employee benefits, and massive online fame combined to create what people called the "Sheng Faction."


    President Sheng trending on social media? Praise her!


    President Sheng making big moves? Take pride in it!


    President Sheng buying an esports club? Support it!


    This unity, with everyone pulling in the same direction, left competitors green with envy¡ªthough some dismissed Sheng Quan¡¯s approach as too erratic.


    Starlight Entertainment clearly needed heavy investment to avoid stagnation, yet here she was, suddenly reviving a dying esports team.


    Now, with all her companies in motion and everyone involved tight-lipped (thanks to NDAs), not a single leak emerged.


    What could this mean? Wasn¡¯t this exactly how things looked when a company was in trouble?


    Some began speculating: Had the usually shrewd and deep-pocketed President Sheng finally stumbled?


    After all, while people joked that China¡¯s entertainment industry was split between showbiz and esports, the former had thrived in recent years while the latter withered.


    Though many privately doubted, none dared say a word to Sheng Quan¡¯s face. Even if she wasted three billion, Starlight Entertainment remained a top-three company, and her personal wealth still dwarfed theirs.


    Not to mention, the now best-selling robotic dogs were practically golden geese!


    Of course, while no one openly criticized, brands previously negotiating partnerships with the Breaking Waves Club began hesitating.


    Broadcasting rights for the team¡¯s matches, once fiercely contested by major TV stations, now saw wavering interest.


    In the end, the rights went to Golden Orange TV¡ªthe only station that never wavered, offering generous terms with unwavering sincerity.


    "Golden Orange TV?" Sheng Quan mused upon hearing the report. "Wasn¡¯t that where Captain Tan¡¯s team appeared on a variety show before?"


    He Xi nodded. "Yes, they¡¯ve been very earnest."


    Sheng Quan had researched Golden Orange TV before. Though more established than Strawberry TV, its competitiveness had noticeably declined in recent years.


    "Such favorable terms?" After reviewing the details, she understood Golden Orange¡¯s determination¡ªthey were desperate to climb back into the top three.


    Under normal circumstances, Breaking Waves wouldn¡¯t have secured such high-tier treatment. But with Golden Orange betting on them as their comeback hope, they accommodated every possible request.


    Sheng Quan had expected to negotiate hard for this level of support, yet Golden Orange proved even more eager than Strawberry TV.


    Truly, ?????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????every industry had its gamblers.


    If successful, this would be a win-win¡ªthough Sheng Quan stood to gain more either way. Naturally, she reciprocated the goodwill:


    "Add a clause¡ªthe Breaking Waves team will fully cooperate with Golden Orange¡¯s promotional efforts."


    At Golden Orange TV, reactions were mixed. Some executives celebrated, while others grumbled.


    "After investing so many resources, all we get is the team¡¯s cooperation in promotions? With these resources, we could¡¯ve hired A-list celebrities!"


    "Don''t even talk about how they could become overnight sensations if they advance. Our country''s teams haven¡¯t made it to the semifinals in years! Sure, President Sheng is a golden touch in the entertainment industry, but that magic can¡¯t possibly extend to esports, can it?"


    The station director silently sipped his coffee. He knew the other person meant no harm¡ªtheir opposition was purely out of concern for the network¡¯s interests. Making this decision had already put immense pressure on him.


    If they failed, it would be a total disaster.


    But with Golden Orange TV¡¯s standing on shaky ground, it was better to go all-in rather than fade into obscurity. Success would bring glory; failure, at least they¡¯d have tried to seize the best opportunity available¡ªthe global championships.


    The agitated executive stormed off but then paused, dialing a foreign friend in the breakroom¡ªsomeone who specialized in esports coverage.


    "Po Shui?"


    The friend, having lived in China for two years, replied directly in Mandarin: "Never heard of ''em. Why d¡¯you ask?"


    After the executive explained, the friend sighed sympathetically. "Man, this is tough. You¡¯ve got no idea¡ªthis year¡¯s competition is insane. Just from Country A alone, there are two ridiculously strong teams, absolute beasts."


    "Your country¡¯s teams already struggle, and with this year¡¯s lineup? I¡¯d say the odds are slim."


    The executive: "..."


    Yeah, those two years his friend spent in China? They were in the Northeast.


    After hearing the global esports outlook, he was utterly disheartened.


    Then, the qualifiers resumed.


    Just as domestic esports fans had grown accustomed to keeping their expectations low¡ª


    The Po Shui team clinched victory.

 Chapter 95

    The Polar Global Championship had nearly become a worldwide spectacle, with every nation equally invested¡ªmedia coverage, public attention, and universal acclaim.


    Except for Huaguo.


    The enthusiasm for the Global Championship in Huaguo was the polar opposite compared to other countries. Esports fans here perfectly embodied the saying, "If you can¡¯t have what you love, turn against it."


    Since it was clear Huaguo would never make a name for itself in the Global Championship, why bother paying attention?


    No wonder major esports clubs were gradually collapsing. Huaguo¡¯s esports fans were truly capable of losing all hope and withdrawing their support entirely.


    With no audience, media coverage dwindled¡ªfewer broadcasts led to declining interest, which in turn meant even fewer viewers. And so the vicious cycle continued.


    Esports was also a youth-dominated industry. As the "old guard" moved on and no "new blood" replaced them, the scene quickly withered.


    Wu Liuqing was one of those "turned" fans.


    Back when Huaguo¡¯s esports scene was still glorious and thriving, she had dived into the world of competitive gaming like a mouse into a rice bin. The fierce competition among teams, the dazzling variety of talent¡ªeven the domestic qualifiers before the Global Championship were as exhilarating as chugging an ice-cold soda on a sweltering summer day.


    Wu Liuqing had her favorite team. She spent generously on them¡ªbuying tickets, joining fan clubs, watching them climb step by step toward victory.


    She witnessed firsthand her team¡¯s hard work, their rise, their glory, and ultimately, their dazzling triumph on the world stage.


    The cheers from the fan meetup that day nearly shook the entire stadium.


    But what goes up must come down¡ªa truth every esports enthusiast knew.


    Yet, the fall came too fast.


    Wu Liuqing watched as the newly crowned champions were discarded by their own club like tools no longer needed. Some were forced into excessive promotions, others loaned out to different teams, and some outright banned from domestic competitions.


    Since the Global Championship was held only once every three years, the clubs saw no point in "wasting time" on these "aging" players.


    Fans like Wu Liuqing, who had witnessed their team¡¯s glory days, were arguably the most loyal and devoted in Huaguo¡¯s esports history.


    And then, the team they loved was disbanded.


    The once-celebrated players either vanished without a trace or switched careers altogether. Their social media accounts, once platforms for fan interaction, remained under the control of the clubs.


    These players¡ªonce hailed as prodigies, as geniuses, as the pride of the nation¡ªwere squeezed dry of their last drop of value and then tossed aside like trash.


    Who could stand for that?


    When Sheng Quan reviewed the records, she couldn¡¯t help but marvel at the clubs¡¯ audacity.


    Sure, esports was about winning, but it was also about camaraderie. A team that had both victory and unity deserved at least a dignified retirement, even if they couldn¡¯t compete in the next Global Championship.


    Tan Chen offered some context about the situation back then.


    To put it bluntly, the major clubs had too many shareholders, leading to internal power struggles. And as esports became a lucrative industry, it attracted investors with deep pockets but no long-term commitment.


    They were in it for a quick profit, with no qualms about destabilizing the entire market.


    Club management was a mess¡ªnepotism ran rampant, with relatives of influential figures asserting their authority. Most esports players were young and unwilling to tolerate such disrespect, but these "relatives" couldn¡¯t care less about the clubs¡¯ well-being.


    Some went even further, eyeing the fresh-faced "prodigies" with ill intentions. But players who could compete at the highest level weren¡¯t pushovers¡ªthey had pride. Who would endure such humiliation?


    Take Lang Zhong, for example. Despite her youth, her track record was impeccable. Before Sheng Quan acquired DE, she had noticed Lang Zhong while watching match footage.


    As the team¡¯s assassin-class player, Lang Zhong¡¯s maneuvers were always sleek and lethal. She once pulled off a stunning triple kill against three nearly full-health opponents¡ªwhile still in the training camp.


    With proper nurturing, she could have achieved so much more. Yet, because of a "facilities manager," she was forced to leave DE.


    And this was during esports¡¯ decline. One could only imagine how often such things happened at its peak.


    No wonder fans abandoned the scene entirely.


    To put it in terms Sheng Quan understood¡ªimagine reading an 800-chapter novel where the protagonist triumphs gloriously, only to trip and die miserably in the final chapter, with 8,000 words dedicated to describing their gruesome demise.


    Then the author abruptly ends the story and plugs their new book: "The old protagonist is past their prime, so here¡¯s a new one! They¡¯re all fictional characters anyway, so what¡¯s the difference?"


    Who wouldn¡¯t lose their mind?


    Sheng Quan swore that if she ever encountered such an author, she¡¯d break her "no all-nighters" rule, slap on a "post-all-nighter recovery mask," and spend the entire night furiously arguing in the comments.


    She might even swear off the genre entirely, refusing to so much as glance at another synopsis.


    But there was a solution.


    If she stumbled upon a similar story by another author¡ªone that delivered satisfaction from start to finish¡ªshe might hesitate at first, but once she gave it a chance, her faith in humanity would be restored.


    The same logic applied to esports.


    The legions of disillusioned fans no longer trusted clubs that treated players like disposable assets. But Po Shui Club was brand new.


    All she had to do was make sure they saw it.


    And that¡¯s where the power of money came in.


    Overnight, news of [Po Shui Advances to Global Semifinals] flooded every platform.


    The strategy was simple: "If you¡¯re online, you¡¯ll see it."


    "Won¡¯t this kind of bombardment just make people resist it more?" Xu Man, who was involved in the promotional campaign, asked. Her fame, both domestic and international, was substantial¡ªa single congratulatory post from her could drive massive traffic.


    Xu Man had grown rapidly over the past two years. Her skyrocketing reputation had opened doors to bigger opportunities, and though she¡¯d initially been overwhelmed, she followed Sheng Quan¡¯s lead and enrolled in classes to keep up.


    Now, with more experience under her belt, she could spot the potential flaw in this saturation strategy:


    "Old-school esports fans in Huaguo are already resistant. Won¡¯t this push them further away?"


    "In any other industry, or with any other team, maybe."


    Sheng Quan was confident. "But in esports, seeing victory wins half the battle. We deliberately held back on coverage earlier just for this moment."


    "And besides, we still have our ace in the hole, don¡¯t we?"


    As the publicity team had hoped, overnight, news of "Breaking Waves Advances" was plastered everywhere.


    "Advancing to the semifinals?! Is this for real?!" Esports fans who had left the scene purely because domestic teams couldn''t secure victories saw the headline and suspected it might be clickbait. After all, it had been years since a Chinese team made it to the semifinals.


    One skeptical netizen hesitantly opened the official website to confirm. After verifying the news with a mix of excitement and disbelief, they hurriedly searched for updates on the Breaking Waves team.


    What they found were stories like "small team struggling to survive," "fighting their way through qualifiers with outdated equipment," "the entire team sharing just one budget device," and "hopes dashed by a critical mistake from their attacker."


    It seemed like a dead end¡ªuntil the "coach stepped up to shoulder the blame and take the pressure," followed by "appearing on variety shows to earn maintenance funds" and "the coach entering prize fights to scrape together rewards."


    Then, in a dramatic turn of events, Sheng Quan, the chairman of Starlight Entertainment, attended an offline event for Star Wars in Fangcheng, where the variety show was being filmed.


    Breaking Waves'' dire situation was transformed¡ª


    This series of events read like a thrilling underdog novel, complete with twists, turns, and a villain (Bai Xiangyuan), perfectly hitting all the right notes for the audience.


    Especially for the disillusioned veteran esports fans.


    Used to headlines about clubs exploiting players, they were stunned to see Breaking Waves operate this way. They felt both exhilarated and wary¡ªcould this all be too good to be true?


    Before they could even voice their doubts, a flood of skepticism had already erupted across platforms, with comments like:


    "LOL, so what if they made it to the semifinals? Do they really think a domestic team can win? Breaking Waves? Never heard of ''em. Are they even famous?"


    Sheng Quan wasn¡¯t upset.


    ¡ªBecause she had orchestrated it.


    Xu Man was right about one thing: the public loves to rebel. If she didn¡¯t post these comments herself, someone else would. But by doing it first, she triggered the backlash she wanted.


    It¡¯s like posting on a forum asking, "Any recommendations for a good domestic skincare brand?" The response is hit or miss.


    But if someone posts, "There isn¡¯t a single decent domestic skincare brand. So disappointing," the replies will instantly flood in¡ªangry users listing brands, effects, and price points to prove the OP wrong.


    Sheng Quan had known this tactic for a while but rarely used it.


    ¡ªBecause it usually meant catching strays.


    Sure enough, the accounts posting those comments were swiftly dogpiled. The good news? Sheng Quan wasn¡¯t the one posting (she couldn¡¯t possibly handle that volume). Her PR team and hired trolls took the heat.


    And it worked. The fighting spirit of esports fans was nothing to scoff at.


    Meanwhile, the Breaking Waves team, thrilled to hear about the online support, buzzed with excitement. During the season, they were usually barred from the internet to avoid distractions.


    But they were young¡ªwho wouldn¡¯t want to see how people were cheering for them?


    Tan Chen was usually easygoing, but at critical moments like this, he was strict. No matter how much the team begged, he refused to budge.


    That is, until clever Chen Mo spotted Sheng Quan¡¯s arrival and turned on the charm.


    Sheng Quan, predictably, caved and handed over her phone. "If you really want to look... but I¡¯d brace yourselves first."


    The team blinked. "For what? Coach said everyone¡¯s supporting us."


    Sheng Quan: "...They are supporting you."


    Chen Mo brightened instantly. "Let me see! I wanna see how they¡¯re cheering us on!"


    This was so exciting! So many fans defending them! The feeling of being treasured was incredible!


    Chen Mo eagerly scrolled through the comments.


    People were defending Breaking Waves.


    With terrifying efficiency.


    Some took the logical route: "Oh, ¡®just¡¯ the semifinals? Show us your stats, then. If you¡¯re so good, step up! We won¡¯t stop you!"


    Others offered "helpful" advice: "LOL, do you even know how long it¡¯s been since a domestic team made it this far? If your internet¡¯s that slow, maybe go cool off in a well for six months."


    And ?????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????then there were the "gentle" encouragers: "You , talking big when you¡¯ve done all! Spouting nonsense at a time like this¡ªhope the team stays offline so they don¡¯t have to see your @#$%!!!"


    Chen Mo: "..."


    The teammates crowding around her: "..."


    The adorable fanbase in their minds had just morphed into a horde of 6¡¯5", bearded giants. Wait, no¡ªjudging by the usernames, plenty of giantesses were in the mix too.


    Sheng Quan chuckled at their shell-shocked expressions and took back her phone. "Cut them some slack. They¡¯ve been bottling this up for years."


    Tan Chen, leaning against the doorframe mid-rehab, sighed. "Don¡¯t tease them too much."


    He shooed Chen Mo and the others back to training. "Focus now. After the tournament, you can browse all you want."


    The team shuffled off, casting longing glances over their shoulders before settling into their stations.


    While they trained seriously, Bai Xiangyuan¡ªnow all but erased from Breaking Waves¡¯ collective memory¡ªwas weathering a storm of backlash.


    Previously, he¡¯d only faced scattered mockery. But with Breaking Waves¡¯ semifinal breakthrough, hordes of new fans dug up his past.


    Even his current team, Tian Zhan, left him exposed to the onslaught.


    The more Breaking Waves succeeded, the more Bai Xiangyuan¡¯s departure looked like idiocy.


    The worst part? No one from Breaking Waves even bothered to gloat.


    It was like they¡¯d forgotten him entirely.


    That stung more than any insult.


    Refusing to believe it, Bai Xiangyuan found solace in the anti-Breaking Waves comments online. He joined in, predicting they¡¯d flounder in the semifinals.


    Not that he wanted to trash them¡ªhe couldn¡¯t make a dent alone. He just clung to one hope:


    That Breaking Waves, desperate to win, would beg him to return. Their tactics relied on synergy, and his replacement clearly couldn¡¯t match him.


    As more eyes turned to the team, sharp observers noted the issue: the substitute was falling behind. Not for lack of skill¡ªthe playstyle just didn¡¯t fit.


    Years of ingrained understanding couldn''t be replaced overnight. Early matches were manageable, but the semifinals? Every game would be a hundred times harder.


    So Bai Xiangyuan waited.


    Breaking Waves¡¯ strategy was too unique.


    Who else could they possibly turn to but him?


    Until, under the watchful eyes of the public, the official website of Poshui replaced the substitute player who had stepped in earlier.


    A new icon was unveiled, displaying its contents for all to see.


    Attacker: Tan Chen.

 Chapter 96

    As Po Shui gained increasing attention, their undefeated yet heavily teamwork-dependent tactics became a hot topic of discussion.


    Anyone could see that as the competition level rose, Po Shui''s teamwork issues became more glaring.


    This was inevitable¡ªafter all, everyone knew their current attacker was only a temporary replacement.


    Consequently, most of the blame fell on Bai Xiangyuan.


    It was around this time that Bai Xiangyuan began entertaining thoughts of a "Dragon King''s Return."


    But who could have guessed that instead of rallying behind the idea of "bringing Bai Xiangyuan back for victory," most esports fans were thinking, "If Po Shui loses, it¡¯s definitely Bai Xiangyuan¡¯s fault¡ªlet¡¯s tear into him!"


    Bai Xiangyuan: "..."


    Proud and unyielding, he couldn¡¯t stand being criticized.


    The more Po Shui seemed reluctant to call him back, the more he found himself obsessively tracking every move of the club.


    Top-tier one-on-one training equipment, an elite practice environment, lucrative salaries and bonuses, and the backing of none other than Sheng Quan herself.


    Who didn¡¯t know Sheng Quan¡¯s reputation for extravagance when it came to people or projects she favored? Most remarkably, she was always willing to give opportunities to those she believed in.


    Not long ago, Bai Xiangyuan had stumbled upon an entertainment rumor: while netizens were joking about the "Sheng Quan Summons" trend, Sheng Quan herself occasionally browsed these videos. If she spotted someone with potential, she¡¯d have her company, Starlight Entertainment, extend an offer.


    One pair of sisters, known for their comedy skits, had hopped on the trend. After Sheng Quan saw and approved of them, Starlight Entertainment quickly reached out, offering them an audition.


    Though the results were still pending, the mere chance had already sparked envy among countless struggling actors and influencers.


    After getting Starlight¡¯s approval, the sisters released a few follow-up videos, instantly skyrocketing their online presence.


    "Our ''Sheng Quan Summons'' Video Got Liked by Sheng Quan Herself?!"


    "Shocking! Starlight Entertainment Invited Us to Audition After the Chairman¡¯s Like!"


    "Audition Day¡ªMassive Set! Heard This Film Is Starlight¡¯s Flagship Project for the Next Six Months. So Excited!"


    They might land the role and rise to fame overnight¡ªor more likely, they¡¯d fail the audition.


    But they¡¯d clearly seized the opportunity. Those three videos alone had catapulted them from obscurity to minor internet fame.


    And all of it, just because of Sheng Quan.


    How could Bai Xiangyuan not be tempted? Frankly, ever since the sisters¡¯ videos went viral and their follower counts exploded, every online creator wished they could take their place.


    Even if Tan Chen¡¯s stubbornness would never allow Bai Xiangyuan¡¯s return, Tan Chen wasn¡¯t the one calling the shots anymore.


    The real authority was Sheng Quan, the chairwoman.


    Po Shui¡¯s tactics required long-term coordination to avoid flaws. Even if their new attacker was strong, without at least a year of practice, they couldn¡¯t perform at full capacity.


    Bai Xiangyuan had been certain Po Shui would flounder without him¡ªthat was why he¡¯d left without a second thought. A failing team posed no threat to him.


    Now, he was just as certain: if Sheng Quan wanted victory, she¡¯d have to bring him back.


    And why would she spend a fortune on the club if she didn¡¯t want to win?


    Sheng Quan: What if I want victory... but not you?


    When Tan Chen¡¯s name appeared on the official roster, Bai Xiangyuan was so stunned he nearly crawled into his computer screen. Fans who knew Tan Chen were equally shocked.


    Wasn¡¯t Tan Chen Po Shui¡¯s coach?


    And didn¡¯t he retire due to severe injuries? Could he even compete??


    Some wondered if it was a case of mistaken identity and scrolled down to check the in-game tag.


    Attacker: No Chase.


    It really was Tan Chen.


    Fans unfamiliar with Tan Chen¡¯s injury history hurried to look it up.


    Those who knew were flooding forums with disbelief and questions.


    Once Bai Xiangyuan regained his composure, he immediately rushed to the forums, expecting backlash and outrage. After all, No Chase¡¯s injuries were no secret.


    And in esports... players getting flamed was the norm.


    Bai Xiangyuan knew better than anyone. Despite Tan Chen¡¯s calm, unbothered demeanor, every time he faced criticism or pressure, he¡¯d hide away, chain-smoking in solitude.


    If fans rejected Tan Chen now, would he back down?


    But Bai Xiangyuan was disappointed.


    The forums were buzzing¡ªyet no one was hurling insults.


    [No Chase retired years ago because of injuries. Is he even fit to play now?]


    [Sure, he was amazing back then, but esports is a young person¡¯s game. Still, this must be a last resort!]


    Just ?????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????days ago, these same fans had been hurling creative curses left and right.


    Now? They were measured, even supportive.


    [NO CHASE NO CHASE!!! MY WHOLE YOUTH!!!]


    [Wait, the coach knows the team¡¯s tactics better than anyone! Why didn¡¯t I think of this sooner?]


    [I just need to know¡ªare Tan Chen¡¯s injuries healed? If not, is he really okay to compete?]


    [Trust Sheng Quan. No way she¡¯d let someone who can¡¯t play take the role. He must be fully recovered.]


    Bai Xiangyuan: ...No way. Esports fans are being this civil??


    In truth, even Tan Chen was caught off guard.


    He knew his situation: a veteran, forced into retirement by injuries, years out of competitive play¡ªevery disadvantage a pro could have, he had.


    He could¡¯ve predicted the fans¡¯ resentment. Even at his peak, he¡¯d had dedicated haters.


    When Sheng Quan returned, she found Tan Chen online.


    She¡¯d just flown back from the film set. This project wasn¡¯t particularly challenging, and funding wasn¡¯t an issue¡ªbut the timeline was tight.


    A movie could wrap in under a month, but a blockbuster? Impossible.


    Fortunately, pre-production had been underway for a while. Sets, props, and the lead actors were ready. Now, they just needed to finalize the remaining roles and start shooting.


    With Yu Xiangwan overseeing things, Sheng Quan wasn¡¯t worried. Still, she¡¯d flown back to check, ensuring everything was perfect before returning to the team.


    It wasn¡¯t that she, as the boss, had to accompany the team during competitions. Chairman Sheng Quan was simply witnessing a global tournament for the first time¡ªsuch a lively, grand event was something she wouldn¡¯t miss for the world.


    Taking in the scene, Sheng Quan chuckled, "You forbid Chen Mo and the others from going online, but you don¡¯t impose the same ban on yourself."


    "You¡¯re back."


    "I banned them because I know they can¡¯t handle the criticism."


    Tan Chen replied casually, handing Sheng Quan a glass of water. Over time, he had noticed her fondness for hydration¡ªthis "water" encompassing all kinds of fruit juices and beverages.


    Whether busy or idle, Chairman Sheng was often seen sipping on some drink. Her young, beautiful assistant had even taken it upon herself to learn how to prepare all sorts of beverages, ensuring they were as safe and healthy as instant noodle factory standards, so Sheng Quan could indulge without worry.


    Accepting the glass, Sheng Quan asked, "So you can handle it, then?"


    Tan Chen smiled. "I¡¯m used to it. What professional esports player hasn¡¯t been flamed?"


    As he spoke, he clicked into a forum to check the latest updates. He intended to skim past mentions of his name, focusing only on relevant discussions, but his eyes caught something unexpected in that brief glance.


    It wasn¡¯t the usual barrage of insults he had braced himself for.


    Tan Chen froze, hesitated for half a second, then clicked into the thread.


    No insults.


    No hostility.


    People were simply discussing his injury status, while his fans enthusiastically shared his past achievements and glory.


    Had they... just accepted him like that?


    Sheng Quan took a sip of water, observing Tan Chen¡¯s stunned expression as he stared at the screen. "Why do you look so shocked?"


    Tan Chen slowly lifted his gaze, his eyes bright as they met hers. "No one¡¯s insulting me!"


    Sheng Quan: Clearly, getting flamed is the norm for esports players.


    Tan Chen¡¯s excitement was palpable¡ªhis usual composed, world-weary demeanor shattered in an instant, as if he¡¯d stumbled upon some hidden treasure.


    Sheng Quan remained unfazed. "Isn¡¯t that a good thing?"


    Tan Chen: "It is, but it¡¯s also strange. How is no one flaming me?"


    As he spoke, his gaze, which had just returned to the screen, shifted back to Sheng Quan.


    Under his scrutiny, Chairman Sheng sighed. "...Fine, it was me."


    Truthfully, it hadn¡¯t been difficult to arrange. On one hand, Chinese esports had long thirsted for victory, and fans weren¡¯t keen on attacking the last remaining hope, Team Breakwater.


    Of course, some wouldn¡¯t care either way.


    So Chairman Sheng took the simplest, most direct approach¡ªshe outright purchased the gaming forum most frequented by Breakwater¡¯s members.


    Who knew forums could even be bought and sold? Sheng Quan felt like she¡¯d discovered a whole new world.


    Tan Chen had suspected as much. He opened his mouth to thank her, then hesitated, realizing he¡¯d already expressed gratitude countless times¡ªwords felt too flimsy now.


    After a long pause, Team Captain Tan finally murmured, "You know, if I were being flamed online right now, it would actually boost Breakwater¡¯s popularity even further."


    Infamy was still fame.


    And if he clinched victory in the finals, all that criticism would instantly transform into praise and applause.


    Tan Chen knew Sheng Quan had used this exact strategy before to promote Breakwater, with remarkable results. After their semifinal win, the team¡¯s official account had amassed a staggering number of followers.


    This time, all she had to do was let things unfold naturally.


    She didn¡¯t even need to hire trolls to criticize her own club, like last time.


    Tan Chen couldn¡¯t understand why she¡¯d chosen to prevent this "pressure-then-praise" cycle instead.


    Sheng Quan, however, answered without hesitation:


    "No one enjoys being insulted. The previous promotion was for the entire club, so it didn¡¯t matter. But letting you endure months of abuse just for clout? That shouldn¡¯t happen."


    Shouldn¡¯t it?


    Tan Chen fell silent.


    Sheng Quan was right¡ªno one liked being flamed.


    If he truly hadn¡¯t cared, he wouldn¡¯t have clashed with trolls in the past. The very fact that he¡¯d retaliated proved how much their words had stung.


    Because he knew too well the ache of being despised, the countless sleepless nights, Tan Chen had immediately shouldered the blame whenever Bai Xiangyuan made a mistake.


    He¡¯d always told himself: It¡¯s fine. You¡¯re used to it. Just some harsh words¡ªthey won¡¯t kill you.


    But now, Sheng Quan was telling him he shouldn¡¯t have to endure it.


    Noticing Tan Chen¡¯s dazed expression, Sheng Quan pretended not to see and continued, "Besides, if you win the championship, the hype will explode anyway."


    She then asked, "Captain Tan, do you think we can win this time?"


    Tan Chen took a slow, deep breath. In that moment, he seemed to see it again¡ªthe memory of his first encounter with Sheng Quan, back when they¡¯d faced off in the individual tournament.


    Could they win?


    His fingers lightly brushed his right wrist, where pain-relieving bandages no longer wrapped the skin. Though expensive treatments had restored some function, his hands would never return to their peak condition.


    Yet when he looked up again, the usual calm steadiness in his dark eyes had been replaced by a familiar, blazing ambition:


    "Of course."


    "I promise you¡ªwe will win."


    And so it came to pass.


    When Tan Chen stepped in as Breakwater¡¯s main attacker, the team didn¡¯t weaken as some fans had feared. Instead, they became unstoppable.


    Victory was no longer a distant dream¡ªit was etched into the records of Chinese esports history.


    With each successive win, the domestic esports scene revived, drawing in more and more spectators, all awaiting the final showdown.


    Fans were ecstatic. Golden Orange TV, which had secured the broadcasting rights, was even more thrilled.


    After the first victory, cheers erupted everywhere.


    After the second, celebrations spread like wildfire.


    By the third win, all that remained was prayer.


    Just one thought consumed them all: Win. Win. They must win.


    Of course, they weren¡¯t the only ones thinking this. The nation fielding the final opposing team shared the same sentiment.


    "Breakwater¡¯s Tan Chen has an old injury¡ªI saw him massaging his wrist before the match."


    "Rumor is he originally retired due to that injury. He only returned after treatment and rehab. Can he really handle this level of intensity?"


    The audience¡¯s concerns weren¡¯t unfounded. The large screen clearly showed Tan Chen straining under the pressure of high-speed maneuvers.


    His eyes were hidden behind a blindfold, but his face grew visibly paler, sweat trickling down his temples.


    Soon, informed spectators realized the truth: Tan Chen¡¯s injury had flared up again.


    This wasn¡¯t surprising. Even after recovery, esports players were usually advised against returning to competition precisely because intense gameplay could easily reaggravate old wounds.


    Yet no one had expected it to happen during the final match.


    The crowd erupted in murmurs.


    Some prayed for him to push through.


    Others hoped he¡¯d collapse.


    On the livestream, Breakwater was clearly being overpowered.


    The outcome seemed all but decided.


    Until the very last moment, in the midst of a chaotic team battle, Tan Chen¡ªwho was supposed to be on another route¡ªsuddenly emerged, striking with precision. The moment he appeared, the rest of the team instantly fell into seamless coordination with him.


    One hit!


    Two hits!


    Three hits!


    The kills and teamwork unfolded so swiftly it was almost impossible to react.


    In just three seconds, the tide of the battle turned completely.


    At the Golden Orange platform, the former in-game parrot commentator, recommended by Sheng Quan, stared at the screen in exhilaration, his voice nearly hoarse from shouting.


    With a roar that could shatter his vocal cords, he bellowed:


    "Congratulations to our country''s Breaking Waves team!!!"


    "Victory!!!!!!!!"

 Chapter 97

    "!!!!!"


    In the Golden Orange broadcasting room, the commentator was still excitedly showering praise: "From the first five minutes, Breaking Waves was at a disadvantage, but they managed to turn the tables!! They turned weakness into strength! What kind of..."


    Outside, the station manager was so exhilarated he nearly fainted, gripping his chair to steady himself.


    "Champions...


    ...They actually won the championship!!!"


    Beside him, the entire management team was equally ecstatic. Their full support for Breaking Waves, along with the hefty investment in securing the broadcast rights, had finally paid off!


    At the Sky Battle Club, Bai Xiangyuan stared at the live broadcast, barely able to catch his breath.


    In one of Sky Battle''s offices, Manager Ma¡ªas the club''s players usually called him¡ªwas also watching the broadcast.


    Almost the second the words "Breaking Waves Wins" flashed on the screen, his phone rang.


    Manager Ma pulled it out, glanced at the caller ID, and quickly answered: "Director Qian, yes, I saw the match too... Selling players? But this..."


    "No ''buts.'' Breaking Waves was already a formidable force, and now they¡¯ve won the global championship. With them blocking the way, how are we supposed to compete?"


    It was no exaggeration to say that the owners of major clubs were even more invested in Breaking Waves'' performance than the fans.


    The esports scene had been stagnant for a long time until Sheng Quan barged in like a force of nature¡ªnot only staying but also splashing cash everywhere with her deep pockets.


    Clubs that had always treated their players well weren¡¯t affected; in fact, they rode the wave of her influence. Those that had been mediocre could still benefit by improving conditions for their players. But for Sky Battle, which had always treated players as expendable, there was no point in continuing.


    Clearly, the boss had decided to "cut losses while they still could."


    "Sell off as much as possible in the shortest time. Cash in on the hype while it lasts."


    "As for Bai Xiangyuan..."


    The boss, clearly keeping up with gossip, only hesitated for a second before deciding: "Sheng Quan is famously protective. Who knows if she holds a grudge against this guy?"


    Even if Sheng Quan didn¡¯t remember him, he wasn¡¯t about to risk offending her over some insignificant player.


    "Leave him be. Let him fend for himself¡ªwe¡¯re not getting involved."


    Outside the arena, reactions varied wildly.


    But inside the venue...


    The audience hadn¡¯t even processed what had happened before the match was over.


    Everything had happened so fast.


    But that was how the game worked¡ªsometimes battles dragged on forever, and other times, the tide could turn in seconds.


    Gasps of disbelief, cheers, and whistles erupted across the stadium.


    Somewhere in the crowd, a voice screamed: "No way!!!"


    Understandable¡ªthat was a fan of the opposing team. Most of the audience was too busy shouting their lungs out to care.


    The Chinese fans were celebrating.


    The rival team¡¯s supporters were wailing.


    The rest... were just caught up in the excitement, yelling because it felt right.


    Someone ?????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????roared: "Eagle was across the river!!! How could he get hit?! That¡¯s impossible!"


    Plenty shared his disbelief. The river in the Arctic map was impassable¡ªonly a few characters could cross using their skills, making it a common tactic for players to use the water as cover for clutch plays.


    Many viral streamers loved pulling off "escaping with a sliver of health while the enemy can¡¯t do a thing" stunts, much to the audience¡¯s delight.


    One reason everyone had assumed [Mountain Snow] had the upper hand in this team fight was that one of their players had this exact skill, while [Breaking Waves] didn¡¯t.


    In the final clash, everyone expected him to fly across the river and turn the tide¡ªonly for him to get wiped out in the blink of an eye.


    The organizers weren¡¯t about to leave the audience guessing. They were supposed to show a slow-motion replay, but Breaking Waves had ended the game before the replay could even load.


    Luckily, they weren¡¯t sticklers for timing. As the players removed their headsets and took a drink, the big screen started playing the replay.


    The on-site commentator was already hyping it up.


    But Golden Orange couldn¡¯t just borrow their script¡ªotherwise, they¡¯d have hired a translator instead of a dedicated esports commentator.


    The guest commentator, brought in from the gaming scene, kept up a breathless, electrifying narration alongside the replay:


    "Alright, everything happened way too fast, so let¡¯s break it down! Here, we see Eagle hiding across the river, probably setting up an ambush to wipe Breaking Waves¡ªclearly aiming for a team kill!!"


    "From Breaking Waves¡¯ map, he¡¯s invisible! His teammates are crouched behind him, waiting for Eagle to strike first. Porridge is moving in! Porridge enters attack range!"


    "Eagle strikes!! The fight¡¯s on! Porridge loses half his HP in one hit, swings his sword for backup¡ªgets countered! Violin pops out of nowhere, throwing Mountain Snow off, but they stay cool because Eagle¡¯s already drawing his array!"


    "He¡¯s almost done it!!! But No Chase appears!!! One hit!! Interrupts Eagle! Sword follows up with a second!!! Eagle¡¯s down to half HP!! Eagle loops around and flies back over the river!"


    The commentator was practically spitting fire, every word rapid-fire yet crystal clear, his voice so charged it pulled the entire audience in.


    Then, somehow, he cranked the intensity even higher:


    "No Chase chains three hits into 145, swaps gear mid-combo with Porridge¡¯s ult, floats into position 32!!! The arrow fires toward the water!!!! What¡¯s he doing?!!!"


    At that moment, as the slow-motion replay unfolded, every single viewer¡ªwhether in the stadium or at home¡ªwas wide-eyed.


    Even Sheng Quan was stunned.


    The arrow¡¯s range wasn¡¯t enough to hit Eagle across the river. Every pro player at this level knew their weapon ranges down to the pixel.


    So Tan Chen¡¯s move wasn¡¯t meant to kill Eagle¡ªeven with every buff stacked, that arrow wasn¡¯t reaching the other side.


    But it didn¡¯t need to.


    The water¡¯s surface split open.


    ¡ªBOOM!!!


    The crowd erupted.


    Every commentator, including Golden Orange¡¯s, shouted in unison:


    "¡ªIT¡¯S OPEN!!!! The Arctic river can be broken through!!!!"


    On the big screen, Tan Chen¡ªunder the alias [No Chase]¡ªblinked through the gap in the water, instantly swapping gear to the other side and finishing off the unsuspecting Eagle in one move.


    ¡ªThe stadium exploded with deafening cheers.


    "AAAAAHHHHHHH!!!"


    "HOLY CRAP HE BROKE THE WATER!!! THAT¡¯S INSANE!!!"


    Many spectators in the audience were so shocked they even stood up, though sitting would have given them the same view.


    Inside the Golden Orange TV studio, the commentator nearly shouted with golden intensity:


    "Breaking Water!!!! If I¡¯m not mistaken, no one in gaming history has ever pulled off this move!!!"


    "Team Breaking Water! They actually achieved the Breaking Water strike! I¡¯m seriously starting to think they named the team Breaking Water just for this moment!!! Let¡¯s chant it together¡ªBREAKING WATER!!!!!!"


    By the end, his voice was hoarse, his eyes brimming with tears, forcing him to hand over the mic to the other commentator.


    Outside the booth, the station director removed his headphones and watched the scene unfold. Even though he didn¡¯t play games, he couldn¡¯t help but be moved.


    At this moment, the glory of Breaking Water had become the glory of Golden Orange TV.


    Remembering how Director Sheng Quan had proactively agreed to promote the event, the station director was so excited his hands trembled.


    Just as he¡¯d suspected¡ªever since Strawberry TV made a stunning comeback thanks to Sheng Quan, he knew betting on her was the right move.


    Truthfully, he didn¡¯t understand gaming and had only briefly followed esports years ago. But he was willing to gamble, betting that Sheng Quan wouldn¡¯t throw away billions just for fun.


    And now, he¡¯d won that bet.


    Golden Orange TV was about to ride this wave straight to the top.


    The station director was so thrilled he wanted to dance, but he also knew the higher you climb, the more careful you must be.


    He immediately turned to his subordinate and ordered:


    "Go through our popular variety shows and pick the ones suitable for inviting Starlight Entertainment¡¯s rising stars who need exposure."


    The subordinate quickly nodded. "Understood, I¡¯ll arrange it right away."


    "And from now on, whenever we have shows that can help newcomers, prioritize talent from Starlight Entertainment."


    The subordinate agreed outwardly but inwardly marveled.


    Opportunities like these usually required major companies or agents to pull strings and beg for favors.


    But he also understood¡ªGolden Orange TV¡¯s collaboration with Breaking Water¡¯s team had gone exceptionally well, and with victory now secured, it made sense for the director to return the favor.


    The station director did want to repay the kindness, but more than that, he felt Director Sheng Quan was someone worth aligning with.


    From what he¡¯d observed, almost everyone who partnered with her benefited¡ªnot just because of her golden touch, but because she operated with fairness. When she feasted, she never forgot to let others sip the broth.


    Just look at the commentator she recommended¡ªso emotionally invested that even non-gamers felt the adrenaline. And despite tearing up, his delivery remained flawless.


    After a moment of reflection, the director signaled a staff member to bring tissues to the commentator.


    Inside, the commentator stepped back briefly, gratefully accepting the tissues before rasping, "Thanks. Could you get me some water too?"


    "My voice is wrecked again."


    Tears welled up from the strain.


    Man, no job¡¯s easy.

 Chapter 98

    "Po Shui! Po Shui!!"


    Amidst the roaring cheers, the members of the Po Shui team stepped onto the award podium.


    Under the dazzling lights, they basked in the spotlight.


    Beside them stood their teammates, trophies in hand, while the audience below erupted in enthusiastic applause.


    This was esports¡ªbrief yet brilliant.


    This moment would forever be etched into the hearts of every Po Shui member, even if one day they would retire and leave it all behind.


    After delivering the standard award ceremony speech, the esports host handed over the microphone.


    It was time for the winners to share their thoughts¡ªa customary segment where players typically offered polite, rehearsed lines like, "We¡¯d like to thank our parents, our teammates, and we¡¯ll continue striving for greatness."


    On paper, it was a straightforward routine. The host smiled on the surface, but internally, he was pleading, "Please don¡¯t let anything go wrong, please don¡¯t let anything go wrong."


    Some might wonder¡ªwhat could possibly go wrong at an award ceremony?


    But esports players were young, fueled by passion and adrenaline. Hand them a microphone, and they¡¯d say just about anything.


    Especially since the organizers, Extreme Land, rarely interfered, allowing the players to grow even more "audacious."


    There had been complaints about the terrible catering, winners bringing a snake onstage to "share the glory," and even impromptu performances for their fans. One year, an entire team of socially awkward players barely managed three sentences combined, no matter how hard the host tried to coax them.


    Those incidents were tame. The real fear was someone dropping a bombshell during the ceremony.


    Take last year¡¯s championship team, for example.


    A group of fresh-faced, seemingly well-behaved teenagers took the mic and declared, "Winning wasn¡¯t surprising¡ªour opponents were trash. Thanks for being so terrible and handing us the trophy."


    The rival team, seated in the audience, immediately stormed the stage, ready to throw punches.


    Fans of the champions weren¡¯t about to stand by, but the opposing team had their own supporters. The two factions had always been at odds, and the hostility quickly escalated.


    Chairs were flung, and what should have been a celebratory event devolved into chaos. Fortunately, the worst injuries were fractures¡ªno lives lost¡ªbut the fallout cost the host his job.


    It had been a prestigious gig, hosting a globally watched esports event, the pinnacle of his career. Yet, he¡¯d been ousted over someone else¡¯s recklessness.


    This year¡¯s host felt a sliver of sympathy¡ªbut not much.


    After all, if the last guy hadn¡¯t been fired, he wouldn¡¯t be here now.


    All he prayed for was a smooth ceremony. From the moment Po Shui secured their victory, he¡¯d been on edge. Given the near-death state of Chinese esports before this, a sudden championship win was bound to stir up emotions.


    To his relief, the Po Shui players stuck to the script¡ªgrateful, heartfelt, and tearful.


    ¡ª"Esports was my dream. I never thought I¡¯d stand on this stage. It was Captain Tan who lifted us up, taught us, crafted our strategies..."


    ¡ª"Besides Captain Tan, I also want to thank Chairwoman Sheng. She appeared during Po Shui¡¯s darkest hour, helped Captain Tan recover..."


    ¡ª"I remember when I first started, no one noticed me. Back then, it was Captain Tan who..."


    One by one, the players spoke, voices trembling, eyes glistening. Finally, the microphone reached Tan Chen.


    The host had nearly relaxed¡ªuntil Tan Chen offered a faint smile, his voice slightly hoarse:


    "I also want to thank many people¡ªmy first coach, the teammates who fought beside me before my initial retirement, and my current team for believing in me."


    He glanced at his young teammates, their faces brimming with emotion.


    Then, his gaze settled on Sheng Quan in the VIP seats.


    "Like them, I must thank Chairwoman Sheng."


    Even under the blinding stage lights, Tan Chen¡¯s presence remained undimmed. He bowed slightly toward Sheng Quan.


    Only he knew the depths he¡¯d been in before she arrived¡ªa place where he¡¯d thought his story would end in regret.


    Sheng Quan, as usual, sat in the VIP section¡ªnot because she held shares in Extreme Land, but because the organizers treated all big spenders equally. Pay enough, and you could have as many seats as you wanted.


    The scene felt familiar.


    Sheng Quan often found herself in the audience, watching those onstage shine as they were meant to. And when they did, she¡¯d cheer inwardly: More of this, please.


    She knew what Tan Chen would say next.


    Of all the people she¡¯d supported, he was the one who¡¯d truly reached his desired ending.


    Tan Chen¡¯s eyes reddened. He took a deep breath, facing the massive game logo ahead.


    "Thank you, Chairwoman Sheng, for giving me this chance to stand here before my final retirement."


    ¡ªGasps rippled through the crowd.


    Did Tan Chen just say he was retiring?


    Right after winning a global championship?


    Was he insane?


    Since Po Shui¡¯s founding, the team¡¯s fanbase had exploded. The audience was packed with Chinese supporters¡ªteam loyalists and individual stans alike.


    Now, shouts erupted from below:


    "Bu Zhui!!! Don¡¯t retire!!"


    "Bu Zhui!!!!"


    "We¡¯ll always watch you compete!!!"


    Having broken the ice, Tan Chen continued smoothly:


    "My first retirement didn¡¯t allow for a proper goodbye. That¡¯s always been my regret. By fate, I got a second chance, but all things must end."


    His hands ached¡ªold injuries flaring up, despite the extensive treatment Sheng Quan had arranged. Without her, he wouldn¡¯t have lasted this long.


    So Tan Chen smiled as he spoke, grateful for this final match.


    Under the radiant lights, he drew the perfect close to his esports career.


    ¡ª"I announce the permanent retirement of esports player Bu Zhui."


    The host, who¡¯d just started relaxing: ???


    The Global Championship had been held for so many years, yet this was the first time someone announced their retirement right after winning the award. How was this any different from an actor quitting the industry right after winning Best Actor, or a singer retiring after being crowned King of Songs?


    Instinctively, his gaze drifted to Sheng Quan in the audience: You¡¯re the boss, aren¡¯t you going to do something about this?


    Not only did Sheng Quan not intervene, she naturally raised her hands and started clapping.


    The people around her immediately followed suit, applauding with as much enthusiasm as possible. It wasn¡¯t that the international audience members who didn¡¯t know her were being polite¡ªit was just that everyone seated around her was part of her entourage.


    Five bodyguards, two assistants, and even Brother Jiang was clapping earnestly on the side.


    As everyone knew, applause was contagious.


    As the applause erupted from this corner of the front row, the rest of the audience joined in.


    Amid the thunderous applause, Tan Chen handed the microphone back to the host.


    The host: "...Well, at least it¡¯s better than publicly insulting an opponent and starting a brawl."


    On the trending list, as Tan Chen¡¯s words spread, the original hashtags #PolarisGlobalChampionshipVictory and #PolarisReallyBreaksTheIce were quickly joined by #NoChaseAnnouncesRetirement.


    In front of a television in a certain city in China, a former teammate raised his glass in a toast to Tan Chen on the screen:


    "Congratulations on fulfilling your dream."


    In ?????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????an esports club, a young coach shook her head with a smile, seeming both impressed and envious. "He really kept his word."


    Back at the Polaris Club, the coach who had been called back grinned as he wrapped tape around his hands. "That brat still remembers this, huh?"


    ¡ª"The retirement age keeps getting younger these days. I wonder if we¡¯ll be retiring in a couple of years too. Tan Chen, how long do you think you¡¯ll keep competing?"


    ¡ª"Me? Who cares how old I¡¯ll be? Players retire eventually. But if I really have to retire, I want to announce it on the awards stage at the Grand Finals."


    The bold and unrestrained teenager joked around with his teammates, while their coach, who hadn¡¯t been fired yet, simply watched them with a smile.


    In the prime of their youth, full of energy and dreams, the young players listened to Tan Chen¡¯s grand declaration:


    "If I¡¯m going to leave, I¡¯ll do it at my most glorious moment. Just watch¡ªnext season¡¯s championship will be ours."


    Sheng Quan looked at Tan Chen on stage as 006¡¯s voice chimed in her ear: [Ding! Host has successfully altered the fate trajectory of the sponsored individual by 100%.]


    [Ding! Calculating career achievement percentages for sponsored individuals. Rankings are not based on order.]


    Sheng Quan: So meticulous.


    [Tan Chen: 100%]


    [Chen Mo: 100%]


    [Zhou Ke: 100%]


    [Hua Niao: 100%]


    [...]


    The Polaris Club was massive, housing far too many people. As 006 continued listing names with robotic precision for a full two minutes without finishing, Sheng Quan started to worry it might get tired (Do systems even get tired?).


    "Maybe just send me a spreadsheet directly?"


    006 immediately stopped: [Good idea.]


    The system¡¯s reward funds had always been managed by 006, and creating spreadsheets was no trouble at all. Soon, Sheng Quan received an extremely, extremely long list.


    The final tally showed an average career achievement rate of 52% among all members¡ªa surprisingly high score. Sheng Quan had expected the percentage to drop below 30% due to the sheer number of people.


    A pleasant surprise indeed.


    Sheng Quan was quite pleased. She had chosen esports precisely because the industry moved fast, but from another perspective, career achievements in esports also skyrocketed quickly.


    Take the Polaris team, for example. Winning the Global Championship was the pinnacle of success in their field. Whether in their own eyes or in the eyes of others, it was undeniably a 100% achievement.


    The rebate funds arrived, instantly making President Sheng filthy rich.


    After a brief moment of joy, she turned her attention to herself. "006, what¡¯s my current career achievement percentage?"


    006: [Host¡¯s career achievement: 31%.]


    Sheng Quan: Heh, higher than I expected.


    She figured the mechanical dog had given her a significant boost, and large-scale global events like the Polaris Club had further elevated her reputation.


    With the calculations complete, 006 enthusiastically invited Sheng Quan to try her luck with a prize draw.


    Sheng Quan: "Let¡¯s wait a little longer."


    006 was puzzled. "Wait for what?"


    Sheng Quan typed out a message on her phone to Xingmang.


    "Wait for the movie¡¯s release."


    And then¡ªit would be time to unveil the full-scale holographic technology.

 Chapter 99

    After the global tournament concluded, Sheng Quan swiftly entered a period of bountiful rewards.


    Esports truly burns through money, but when it hits the profit phase, the returns are equally staggering.


    It¡¯s worth noting that esports fans in this world span the entire globe.


    They don¡¯t subscribe to the mindset of "if it¡¯s not my country, I won¡¯t support it." Even when Chinese esports was at its lowest, there were still massive numbers of fans¡ªthough they simply supported foreign teams instead.


    That said, most esports fans in this world still hold their own convictions. In an era of global entertainment, various forms of amusement have taken on special significance.


    While they might switch allegiances to foreign teams during regular seasons, when it comes to international tournaments like the global championship, the majority still rally behind their home country¡¯s representatives.


    But that support hinges on one condition: their national team must make it to the finals. Sometimes, if their favorite team ends up facing their country¡¯s squad, fans feel torn, as if they¡¯re being split in two, unsure which side to root for.


    In recent years, Chinese esports fans haven¡¯t had to grapple with this dilemma, giving the impression that they weren¡¯t particularly active in the scene.


    Otherwise, sponsors wouldn¡¯t have hesitated even as the Breaking Waves team climbed the ranks.


    Even foreign brands were reluctant to invest in China, often dubbed the "esports wasteland."


    But after this year¡¯s global tournament, the world finally witnessed the fervor of Chinese fans.


    Post-event, news outlets worldwide rushed to publish their reports:


    "Polar Champions: China¡¯s Breaking Waves Team Takes the Crown"


    "Team Captain Announces Retirement on Awards Stage"


    "Chinese Fans Flood City O, Mayor Awards Sheng Quan ¡®Annual Contribution Award¡¯"


    "Tourist Boom in City O as Mayor Hastens Museum Repairs for Visitors"


    Indeed, while the championship going to a Chinese team was noteworthy, the real headline for many nations was: How do your team¡¯s fans outnumber everyone else¡¯s?!


    Some players who stayed behind to explore the city were baffled:


    "Why are there so many tourists in City O, and why did the Breaking Waves¡¯ owner get a contribution award?"


    Even if it¡¯s because of the fans, shouldn¡¯t the team be the ones honored?


    A teammate, clearly an avid internet user, explained: "Apparently, multiple people can receive V Country¡¯s Annual Contribution Award. The owner got a separate one because she praised City O¡¯s tourism on social media."


    The questioning player grew even more confused: "So what if she praised it? I did too¡ªwhere¡¯s my award?"


    The teammate deadpanned: "Can your praise attract hundreds of thousands of tourists?"


    The player: "???"


    "How many?!"


    "Hundreds of thousands?!"


    "It really is packed out there."


    Sheng Quan stayed in City O¡¯s landmark hotel, as always in the top-floor suite, leaning by the window with a telescope in hand.


    Gazing at the sea of people below, she clicked her tongue. "Can V Country even handle this many visitors?"


    Jiang Lu, standing beside her, reassured her: "No need to worry. Though V Country isn¡¯t large, its capital, City O, is more than capable of accommodating the crowds."


    Nodding, Sheng Quan opened Weibo and chuckled at the trending topic: "Tourists Flock to Sheng Quan¡¯s Photo Spots in V Country."


    Since the finals were held in City O, competing teams usually arrived a few days early. But with accommodations not covered by the organizers, most only came about ten days in advance.


    Fans who bought tickets would arrive based on their schedules, with the earliest showing up around two weeks prior.


    Breaking Waves was different. With Sheng Quan¡¯s deep pockets, the entire team arrived in the picturesque but modest country a full month ahead¡ªequipment in tow.


    While Tan Chen and the others trained daily at the hotel, Sheng Quan happily explored the small, scenic nation.


    Over the past few years¡ªaside from the hectic first year after her transmigration¡ªSheng Quan made sure to travel at least five times annually.


    For shorter trips, she stayed domestic: admiring landscapes straight out of ink paintings, scaling awe-inspiring snow-capped peaks, traversing plateaus, and galloping across endless grasslands on horseback.


    Generally, travel isn¡¯t always enjoyable¡ªunless you¡¯re wealthy.


    And since Sheng Quan was very wealthy, she enjoyed every single trip.


    After soaking in the scenery, she¡¯d retreat to a mountaintop hotel with panoramic views. When climbing high-altitude peaks, she was accompanied by seasoned guides and a full medical team. Riding across the grasslands? Jiang Lu and his team were always nearby, ready to ensure her safety.


    She never had to fuss over itineraries, prep exhaustive packing lists, or rush through every local attraction like a checklist.


    Director Wan Bao once asked her during the filming of Stellar War: "You¡¯re already this rich¡ªwhy do you still work?"


    Sheng Quan¡¯s reply: "Because only by working hard can I truly savor my leisure time."


    This was her first life as a "rich second-gen," and while she lacked experience, she¡¯d observed plenty of wealthy heirs in her past life. Barring a few nouveau riche exceptions, most had their own careers and pursuits.


    Life couldn¡¯t be all play; if it were, the joy would eventually fade.


    It was like how Lin Aike, while filming, had to strictly control her diet¡ªboiled meat and greens, not a drop of oil in sight. When Sheng Quan visited the set, Lin¡¯s eyes would gleam at the sight of a fried chicken leg, as if she might pounce on it.


    She¡¯d even coined a life truth: "If I could eat one normal home-cooked meal right now, I¡¯d instantly feel pure happiness."


    But once filming wrapped and Lin had time to rest and recover, with no strict diet enforced, her cravings vanished.


    After an initial two days of bliss, even her favorite dishes became mundane.


    For Sheng Quan, balance was key. With both work and play in her life, she found lasting happiness.


    She¡¯d even curate travel destinations for her employees after her own trips. This time, she was pleasantly surprised to find that V Country¡ªnever before featured on any "recommended travel lists"¡ªwas an unexpected gem.


    Though small and rarely visited, the country¡¯s hospitality was top-notch, prices were reasonable, and its foreign landscapes offered a unique charm. Clearly, the locals had invested heavily in tourism, maintaining both natural and man-made attractions impeccably.


    Safe, fun, and affordable¡ªafter deciding to make it Starlight Entertainment¡¯s next overseas retreat, Sheng Quan casually praised it on Weibo.


    Her Weibo account had gradually become a platform for sharing daily life. Though she was somewhat of a public figure, no one dared to dictate what Chairman Sheng could or couldn¡¯t post. Whenever Sheng Quan came across something delicious, binge-watched a show, or nurtured a new plant, she would share it on social media¡ªand her posts always garnered enthusiastic responses.


    When celebrities posted things like, "This biscuit is delicious, highly recommend!" fans might suspect it was a paid promotion. But when Sheng Quan did the same, brands would flood her comments with offers like, "If you like them, we¡¯ll send you ten boxes!"¡ªand no one would accuse her of advertising. After all, who could possibly afford her endorsement fees?


    It was also undeniable that Sheng Quan¡¯s tastes aligned with the masses. What she liked, most people tended to enjoy as well. Observant netizens noticed that while she never publicly criticized anything¡ªbe it food or TV shows¡ªher silence spoke volumes. Starlight Entertainment, for instance, didn¡¯t produce hit shows every time. With so many projects under such a large company, a few flops were inevitable. Yet, while Sheng Quan might casually mention other shows, the bad ones never earned so much as a whisper on her feed.


    This indirectly proved one thing: she only praised what she genuinely liked.


    And let¡¯s face it¡ªif someone as wealthy as Sheng Quan ate or used something, at the very least, it had to be safe and healthy, right?


    Before long, her Weibo became a go-to destination for recommendations. Take that biscuit she praised, for example. It was from a niche brand that prioritized quality ingredients, with a rich, creamy flavor, but struggled with low profits and couldn¡¯t afford marketing. Then, out of nowhere, Sheng Quan¡¯s endorsement sent hordes of people buying boxes upon boxes, single-handedly resurrecting the brand.


    Of course, that was an exceptional case¡ªthe biscuits were genuinely good, which explained the explosive response. Other smaller recommendations didn¡¯t fare as well.


    So even Sheng Quan herself was caught off guard when her casual praise for O City¡¯s tourism¡ªalong with a few photos¡ªsparked an unprecedented frenzy. Previously, she¡¯d complimented other places without much fanfare, but this time was different.


    E-sports fans, already riding the high of the Chinese team¡¯s victory at the global championships, flocked to O City in droves, provided they had some spare cash.


    Fortunately, V Country had prepared in advance. Otherwise, Sheng Quan might¡¯ve had to urge everyone to travel responsibly¡ªthough she suspected that, given the internet¡¯s penchant for chaos, such a plea would only fuel more enthusiasm.


    By now, the comments under her Weibo post were completely overrun:


    "So beautiful! Thanks for the rec, Chairman Sheng. Just in time for my annual leave¡ªtaking the whole family there!"


    "I¡¯m already in V Country! Was planning to leave after the finals, but since you say it¡¯s fun, I¡¯m staying!"


    "AHHHH Po Shui is unbeatable! Chairman Sheng is unbeatable!! V Country is amazing!!"


    "Just booked my flight. See you soon!"


    "LOL, I¡¯m at the Grand Canyon right now, and it¡¯s packed with Chinese tourists. At night, we all sang and danced around a bonfire¡ªChinese songs only. Even the locals got swept up in it! (Pic 1) (Pic 2)"


    "Holy crap, just checked hotel prices in O City¡ªthey¡¯re dirt cheap! But I¡¯ve never been abroad. For those already there, is it manageable without speaking the language? Are the locals friendly?"


    "Answering the call: Currently at the hotel. Felt a bit lost with the language barrier during the day, but the streets are full of Chinese tourists, so it¡¯s not too scary. By evening, the staff had switched to Mandarin speakers¡ªapparently, V Country¡¯s government hired them urgently to make our trip smoother. The locals are super welcoming, and even though it¡¯s a small country, they¡¯ve mobilized their entire security force to keep tourists safe. Verdict: Worth a second visit."


    "I chatted with a local who asked why so many of us suddenly showed up. Told them it was because Chairman Sheng, Po Shui¡¯s boss, recommended it. Their shocked faces will live in my memory forever."


    "Same here¡ªgot the exact same reaction. Priceless."


    V Country was, understandably, stunned.


    Typically, host nations of global tournaments would see a tourism boost after the event. The hosting rights were awarded based on the previous year¡¯s winning team¡¯s nationality.


    While teams at the global championships were jokingly referred to as "national teams," they weren¡¯t officially state-sponsored¡ªexcept in V Country¡¯s case. Their winning team had been government-trained, with state-funded equipment.


    From the moment they secured hosting rights, V Country had poured three years of preparation into leveraging the global finals to kickstart their tourism industry.


    It was their only shot. Small and economically limited, they had no other avenues for growth.


    As the finals approached, the entire nation grew anxious. Their meticulous planning was meant to ensure visitors had such a great experience that they¡¯d return or spread the word, boosting future tourism.


    Their biggest fear? That audiences would leave right after the matches, dismissing the country as too insignificant to explore. So, from the moment the venue opened, they¡¯d bombarded social media with promotional campaigns.


    Never in their wildest dreams did V Country¡¯s government imagine their initial worry¡ª"What if we don¡¯t get enough tourists?"¡ªwould morph into "How do we handle this overwhelming influx?"


    Hundreds of thousands of Chinese tourists.


    All because of one remark from the championship team¡¯s owner, Sheng Quan.


    If there were a "National Contribution Award," the mayor would¡¯ve gladly handed it to her on the spot.


    V Country wasn¡¯t the only one reeling¡ªother nations were equally shocked.


    Sheng Quan knew the phenomenon wasn¡¯t solely her doing. Multiple factors had aligned:


    First, China hadn¡¯t clinched a victory in so long that Po Shui¡¯s win ignited an electric fervor among e-sports fans. In that euphoric state, visiting the championship¡¯s host country felt like a natural next step.


    Second, many Chinese spectators were already in V Country for the finals. With China¡¯s massive population¡ªand heightened hopes for victory this year¡ªthe stands had been packed. For them, extending their stay for sightseeing was just a bonus.


    Third, V Country¡¯s affordability, coupled with their three-year tourism overhaul, had created a budget-friendly, tourist-ready environment. An overseas trip this cheap, during a holiday? Chinese travelers jumped at the chance.


    And most crucially¡ªChinese people loved a good crowd. A destination this fun, this affordable, and swarming with fellow countrymen? Even first-time travelers saw it as the perfect opportunity to dip their toes into international travel.


    In short, it was a perfect storm¡ªevery element converging at once.


    The volume of domestic tourists is actually much larger, but domestic travel simply doesn¡¯t attract the same attention from other countries.


    However, others don¡¯t see it that way. All they notice is how a single remark from Sheng Quan, the owner of a Chinese esports club, managed to draw hundreds of thousands of tourists to Country V.


    Hundreds of thousands of tourists.


    What kind of influence is that?


    And when you consider Sheng Quan¡¯s age¡ªshe¡¯s only in her twenties.


    There are so many wealthy people in the world, so how is it that she alone possesses such immense public appeal?


    What¡¯s even more astonishing is that Sheng Quan doesn¡¯t just rally Chinese travelers¡ªshe¡¯s also summoned a massive wave of international tourists to visit Country V.


    According to journalist interviews, these tourists are all fans of Sheng Quan.


    They¡¯ve even planned their trips meticulously: after touring Country V, they intend to make a detour to China, because based on Sheng Quan¡¯s past Weibo posts, she¡¯s praised Chinese tourist spots far more frequently.


    Back in China, Sheng Quan read the foreign media coverage and thought, ¡°...Since when do I have foreign fans??¡±


    He Xi, standing nearby, replied, ¡°They probably came over from Jiang Zhen¡¯s side.¡±


    Sheng Quan suddenly understood.


    Ah, Jiang Zhen¡ªthat explains it.


    If every celebrity in the entertainment industry has their own unique ¡°constitution,¡± then Jiang Zhen, at his age, is the type who¡¯s destined for explosive fame. Give him the right role and script, and he¡¯ll bring the character to life, rapidly amassing a devoted fanbase both at home and abroad.


    As for Sheng Quan¡¯s ¡°constitution¡±... Well, let¡¯s just say that nearly every fan of the artists under her management naturally becomes half a fan of hers.


    Not to the level of true devotion, but whenever she posts on Weibo, these fans show up more enthusiastically than her own followers¡ªsome just to help their favorite idols gain exposure, others because they followed the trail and discovered Sheng Quan wasn¡¯t so bad herself.


    And let¡¯s be honest¡ªit¡¯s not just Chinese netizens. People all over the world love jumping on a bandwagon.


    Especially after the media started broadcasting this story.


    The Global Esports Championship is the happiest time for international media outlets, because no matter what esports-related reports they publish during this period, fans eat it up. Even if they report that a certain player tripped while walking, fans will anxiously follow up, worried the player might have broken a hand.


    But once the Global Championship ends, the media enters a slump.


    Sure, what goes up must come down, but understanding that logic doesn¡¯t mean they¡¯re willing to accept it. So when a newsworthy story like this suddenly pops up¡ª


    Media outlets collectively: We HAVE to report this!


    Even if the downturn is inevitable, delaying it day by day is worth it. And a headline like ¡°One Person Influences Hundreds of Thousands¡±? That¡¯s pure clickbait gold.


    Add in Sheng Quan¡¯s identity as the owner of Breaking Waves, this year¡¯s Global Championship-winning esports team, plus Country V¡¯s current tourism boom, and you¡¯ve got a story that¡¯s practically eyeball-magnetizing.


    As soon as the reports went live, netizens worldwide were naturally curious.


    [Is she a government official?]


    [She¡¯s just a businesswoman, not a celebrity?]


    [I feel like I¡¯ve seen her name somewhere before.]


    [She¡¯s insanely rich. My favorite actor is signed under her company¡ªshe owns the entire office building they work in.]


    [Do you guys not know? She invested in Cultivator and Stellar War. The Ten Great Immortal Palaces in China? Built by her. And those super-popular robotic guide dogs? Also Sheng Quan¡¯s.]


    [Not just that¡ªthe Cultivator and Stellar War merchandise, the ones praised as industry benchmarks? All produced by Sheng Quan¡¯s subsidiaries.]


    You don¡¯t realize until you look it up¡ªthen it hits you like a truck.


    Netizens worldwide suddenly discovered that so many of the movies they loved, the products they used, were tied to Sheng Quan¡¯s companies.


    Which makes sense¡ªmost people, when they buy something, might glance at the brand, but who digs into who owns it?


    One disbelieving comment: [Even the Chinese luosifen I love! That brand belongs to Sheng Quan!!]


    (Though many had no idea what luosifen even was, that didn¡¯t stop them from being amazed.)


    As public curiosity about Sheng Quan grew, TV programs across countries began covering her.


    Beyond her wealth and influence, what people admired even more was her sense of social responsibility:


    [She¡¯s less of a capitalist and more of a philanthropist. When China was hit by floods, Sheng Quan donated money, supplies, and even lent out film props¡ªthat¡¯s when the robotic guide dogs first debuted. Later estimates suggested she spent at least tens of millions during that disaster.


    The concept for the guide dogs came from Gu Shuyue, a third-year student at China¡¯s C University. Student ideas rarely get taken seriously, but Sheng Quan was different¡ªnot only did she fund Gu Shuyue¡¯s project, she also backed over thirty other student initiatives. And that decision paid off handsomely...]


    There are plenty of wealthy people, but few like Sheng Quan. With just a little media push, someone who was only somewhat known domestically suddenly went viral overseas first.


    No helping it¡ªthe accolades preceding her name were just too dazzling.


    Let¡¯s ?????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????count a few:


    Produced globally record-breaking films.


    Close friends with genius director Xu Man.


    Discovered and propelled megastar Jiang Zhen to fame.


    Her VFX company is now world-renowned.


    Built the Ten Great Immortal Palaces for a film.


    Created robotic guide dogs for another.


    Two record-shattering blockbusters within five years.


    Invested in esports and immediately won a national championship.


    Praised Country V in a Weibo post, and its tourism industry skyrocketed.


    And most importantly¡ªevery venture under Sheng Quan prioritizes quality. Even the two poorly received dramas Starlight Entertainment released this year? They just didn¡¯t fit the market. The cinematography, acting, and production values were still top-tier.


    Take the robotic guide dogs¡ªwhen they first launched, analysts predicted they¡¯d be prohibitively expensive. But their price was so low people joked it was practically free. Anyone could see Sheng Quan was doing everything to keep costs down.


    And while the basic, no-frills model was initially reserved for Chinese citizens with disabilities, as production scaled up, they¡¯ve started rolling out internationally.


    Not everyone worships the wealthy.


    But someone who¡¯s powerful, rich, and actively helping others? That commands respect.


    At the Global Championship, Breaking Waves¡¯ victory thrust both the team and their owner, Sheng Quan, into the global spotlight.


    As each of her achievements was listed out, she instantly became an idol for countless netizens worldwide. The surge in followers on her social media was staggering.


    And right at the peak of this attention¡ªSheng Quan posted an update:


    [Full-immersion film Polaris: The Ultimate Player premieres globally June 21. Stay tuned.]

 Chapter 100

    Starlight Entertainment has produced quite a few visually appealing films and shows in recent years, but Sheng Quan rarely promotes them on her Weibo before their release. More often, she joins audiences in watching dramas or movies after they¡¯ve aired.


    Occasionally, when a particularly gripping series comes along, Chairman Sheng happily pulls some strings to access the studio¡¯s archives and binge the rest. But outright promotional posts on Weibo? Over the years, she¡¯s only done it a handful of times.


    Among those rare instances were classics like The Cultivator and Interstellar War¡ªboth massive hits. While netizens were still flooding the comments with excited messages like "Yes! I¡¯ll definitely buy tickets when it¡¯s out!", seasoned fans had already made their predictions:


    "When Sheng Quan promotes it, you know it¡¯s premium."


    "I have a feeling we¡¯re about to relive the thrill of scrambling for sold-out tickets¡ªlowkey excited, ngl."


    "OMGGGGG if Sheng Quan¡¯s personally promoting it, it HAS to be amazing!!"


    A new fan chimed in: "Wait, why does her promo mean it¡¯s good? Isn¡¯t this her company¡¯s film? Does she usually not promote their stuff?"


    The replies came fast:


    "No amount of money can make Sheng Quan promote something. Not even her own projects."


    "Sure, she¡¯s the producer, but her standards are sky-high. Only the absolute best get her personal stamp of approval."


    "LOL so true¡ªsometimes Starlight drops a hit drama, but if Sheng Quan stays silent, you just know it wasn¡¯t her cup of tea."


    One user recalled: "I remember an interview where Jiang Zhen was asked why Sheng Quan didn¡¯t promote his new horror movie. He deadpanned, ¡®It was too scary¡ªshe skipped the internal screening.¡¯"


    Another jumped in: "There was also that one series by a Starlight-signed director that started strong but nosedived. Sheng Quan live-tweeted her rage, roasting it every five hours. Rumor has it she overnighted the guy to an elite director¡¯s bootcamp."


    "I heard about that! The director was fresh out of school¡ªtalented but green. And that bootcamp cost a fortune. Imagine graduating just to get sent back to class¡ªLMAO."


    "Don¡¯t forget that time a Starlight rookie got called out by Sheng Quan for bad acting. Next day, he enrolled in intensive training and documented his progress daily. Dude leveled up fast."


    "After the Chairman drags you, you¡¯d better study HARD."


    "This is why I ignore other influencers but trust Sheng Quan¡¯s word. She doesn¡¯t sugarcoat¡ªeven her own projects get roasted if they¡¯re trash (dog head x2)."


    Plenty of industry insiders follow Sheng Quan¡ªnot just actors, but directors, screenwriters, hosts, agents, and even rival entertainment companies¡¯ official accounts.


    The reason? Starlight Entertainment¡¯s deep pockets and stellar output. They churn out high-quality content yearly and aren¡¯t afraid to cast unknowns in lead roles¡ªif the talent fits.


    This is the confidence that Chairman Sheng Quan gives to the company. Most film crews, especially those with sizable investments, are hesitant to cast relatively unknown actors in leading roles, fearing that the project might flop and result in massive losses.


    That¡¯s why stories like "handpicking an unknown but talented actor for the lead role" become legendary tales within and beyond the industry whenever they happen. Of course, it¡¯s only a legend if the project succeeds¡ªif it fails, it fades into obscurity.


    What makes Sheng Quan truly remarkable is her clear preference for giving newcomers opportunities while treating veteran actors with equal fairness. In all projects under Starlight Entertainment, casting decisions are driven by one principle: suitability. If the company doesn¡¯t have the right actor in-house, Starlight has no qualms about bringing in talent from other agencies.


    Some companies think Starlight is foolish¡ªsmall productions might be one thing, but why let actors from rival agencies take the spotlight in big-budget projects? Take, for example, the all-out effort behind Polaris¡ªThe Ultimate Player, a film with an astronomical budget, where the lead role ultimately went to an actor not signed with Starlight.


    Starlight isn¡¯t short of A-list actors. Even if age was a concern, why not use special effects makeup or simply tweak the script to adjust the character¡¯s age? To outsiders, Sheng Quan¡¯s approach seems like painstakingly growing a tree only to hand the fruit to someone else.


    But Sheng Quan, who usually favors collaboration, stands firm on this point:


    "As long as it achieves the best possible outcome, I don¡¯t care if the lead isn¡¯t a Starlight artist¡ªeven if the entire cast isn¡¯t, that¡¯s fine."


    Making a movie isn¡¯t like throwing together a stew where you toss in whatever ingredients you have. Whether as a chairman or as an audience member, Sheng Quan refuses to force unsuitable actors into unsuitable roles just to maximize profits.


    That said, if they are suitable, she¡¯s more than happy to cast them.


    Just because the lead isn¡¯t a Starlight artist doesn¡¯t mean none of the roles are. A movie has countless characters, some with just a minute of screen time as "background extras." For these roles, which don¡¯t affect the main plot or viewing experience, Starlight mostly uses its own signed artists.


    Many of them are newcomers or lesser-known actors, and even a fleeting 10-second appearance in such a high-budget film is an unimaginable opportunity for most.


    Even Tan Chen and his teammates made a brief cameo¡ªnot as actors, but through flashback footage of this year¡¯s global championship. The roars of the crowd, live broadcasts on giant screens, and the triumphant scene of esports players standing on the podium all highlight Polaris¡¯s immense popularity.


    Joining the cameos were other Starlight artists who landed suitable roles, like Yan Hui, Hua Qing, and Jiang Zhen¡ªnow major stars¡ªwho squeezed time out of their packed schedules to make appearances.


    Naturally, their fans alone guarantee a built-in audience for the film.


    "Produced by Starlight" has become synonymous with quality, and with these increasingly popular stars making cameos, the movie¡¯s success seems almost inevitable.


    In fact, even before its release, just the trailer alone¡ª


    Some minor actors who didn''t secure roles weren¡¯t discouraged. Even though they had no connection whatsoever to the film, that didn¡¯t stop them from reposting Sheng Quan¡¯s promotional Weibo posts and adding a few compliments of their own:


    ["Just watching the trailer has me excited¡ªdefinitely buying tickets to support! (flowers)(flowers)"]


    On the surface, it looked like blatant flattery¡ªand honestly, that¡¯s exactly what it was.


    One actor explained to their agent, "Of course I¡¯m doing it. What if Chairman Sheng happens to see my repost, clicks on my profile, and thinks I¡¯d be perfect for some role?"


    The agent, who had initially wanted to stop them, reconsidered. It wasn¡¯t entirely wishful thinking.


    This actor wasn¡¯t just daydreaming. The entire industry knew about Sheng Quan¡¯s habits. Take, for example, that pair of sisters who made goofy short videos¡ªthey were barely considered influencers at best.


    But because they posted a video responding to "Sheng Quan¡¯s Open Casting Call," Sheng Quan herself noticed them, decided they¡¯d fit a pair of roles in The Players, and gave them a chance to audition.


    And guess what? They landed those roles.


    When the trailer dropped, sharp-eyed viewers spotted the sisters in a brief cameo. Though their screen time was fleeting, their lines made it clear they weren¡¯t just background extras.


    Who wouldn¡¯t envy that?


    Remembering the sisters¡¯ success story, the agent quickly changed their tune. "You¡¯re right. Actually, let¡¯s clear your schedule on opening day. You¡¯ll go watch the movie in theaters."


    Though this actor wasn¡¯t a big name, the agent was serious about building their career. "I¡¯ll arrange for someone to ''secretly'' snap photos of you there. We¡¯ll buy a trending topic about you disguising yourself to catch the film. Even if Chairman Sheng doesn¡¯t notice, at least we can drum up some buzz."


    The actor nodded eagerly, then sighed. "Sometimes I wish I was the one Chairman Sheng called out for bad acting. At least then I¡¯d have her attention¡ªthat¡¯s an opportunity right there."


    "Dream on. Chairman Sheng has her limits. Haven¡¯t you noticed she only critiques artists signed to her own company? And besides, you really think being called out by her is a bad thing?"


    The actor frowned. "Isn¡¯t it? Getting publicly labeled as unprofessional by your boss?"


    The agent shook their head. "Being called unprofessional and then benched¡ªthat¡¯s bad. Being called unprofessional and then given training to improve¡ªthat¡¯s an opportunity."


    They mused, "No wonder Starlight Entertainment¡¯s artists are so loyal to Chairman Sheng. Her blunt criticism and direct demands for growth actually make people feel secure. At least they know that at Starlight, if you¡¯ve got talent, you¡¯ll get your shot."


    The more they thought about it, the more the agent understood why Starlight had risen so rapidly in just over three years.


    "When Chairman Sheng critiques her own signed artists, they thank her for the chance to learn. Fans respect her for speaking her mind instead of covering up flaws just because they¡¯re ''family.'' No wonder she¡¯s such a powerhouse."


    The actor could only listen in awe before hurriedly pulling out their phone again.


    The agent blinked. "What are you doing now?"


    "Adding more praise! I feel like my last attempt wasn¡¯t heartfelt enough!"


    They ?????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????weren¡¯t the only ones trying to ride the hype train by showering the film with compliments before its release. Sheng Quan was more than happy to let this self-motivated "hype squad" do their thing.


    Everything was going smoothly. On the eve of the film¡¯s premiere, Sheng Quan visited the research institute.


    ¡ªNing Zhou really was something else.


    Row upon row of holographic gaming pods lay quietly in the vast space as Sheng Quan examined them one by one.


    Polaris Headquarters


    Upon discovering that a film based on Polaris''s universe had been released in China¡ªand confirming the production company held the rights¡ªthey barely batted an eye.


    Just a movie, after all.


    If it succeeded, Polaris would gain a flood of new paying players.


    If it flopped? No skin off their backs.


    The shareholders of Polaris might clash on other matters, but when it came to profit, they were united.


    As long as there was something in it for them, no one cared how a little Chinese film turned out¡ªincluding that minuscule year-end stock bonus, a negligible fraction tossed out merely to spur spending.


    This Sheng Quan, who¡¯d recently made waves, went to great lengths to spend 200 million yuan securing that year-end stock... only to pour a fortune into a movie where the official brand would profit effortlessly?


    A staff member chuckled as he set down the report, thinking:


    Truly, the wealthy are whimsical.


    And a bit of a sucker, too.

 Chapter 101

    Before June 21st, almost everyone thought this was just another ordinary blockbuster film.


    Like the previous hits produced by Starlight Entertainment, it was predictably entertaining, likely to maintain its popularity for a long time, allowing audiences to happily indulge in a visual and auditory feast.


    Strangely, before the film¡¯s release date was finalized, executives from several major cinemas frequently visited Starlight Entertainment.


    After The Players was scheduled, competing films originally slated for the same period¡ªthough unable to uncover specifics¡ªquickly changed their release dates.


    No one dared to stubbornly compete, after all, Starlight Entertainment had undeniably become an unstoppable giant in the entertainment industry.


    Those who had foolishly tried to go head-to-head with it in the past had long been crushed by its string of successes.


    After swiftly pulling their films and retreating, many couldn¡¯t help but wonder:


    "She¡¯s making such a big fuss, and I heard the budget is huge. Couldn¡¯t she have waited and pushed it to the Lunar New Year season?" General Manager Lu lamented his misfortune: "After all that careful planning, we ended up clashing with Starlight¡¯s film. Now all our previous promotions are wasted."


    At the dinner gathering, as soon as he voiced his grievances, a certain General Manager Huang chimed in:


    "That¡¯s just how the film industry is. Who would¡¯ve thought that at the start of the year, Starlight seemed to have no major projects, and now, just six months later, they¡¯ve produced a movie tied to gaming? What¡¯s President Sheng thinking¡ªfirst suddenly taking an interest in esports, then abruptly deciding to make a film about it?"


    No one dared to call President Sheng "young and impulsive" anymore. Even if some had said so initially, they quickly shut up after Starlight Entertainment rose to become one of the top three companies in the industry within just a few years.


    Back then, when mid-to-upper-level executives from entertainment companies gathered, the terms they used behind Sheng Quan¡¯s back were mostly "recklessly ambitious" or "overly aggressive."


    Later, those descriptions shifted to "a talented young person," "truly carrying on her family¡¯s legacy," or "the new generation surpassing the old."


    Now, the labels attached to Sheng Quan had skyrocketed to "calculating mastermind" and "unfathomably shrewd."


    Though everyone knew Sheng Quan rarely showed up at the company, whenever she attended industry events and others lavished praise on her, President Sheng would smile and modestly attribute Starlight¡¯s rapid growth to Gu Zhao and the management team.


    But think about it¡ªa chairwoman who seldom visits the office yet commands unwavering loyalty from everyone, from the CEO down to the lowest-level employees? Even as Starlight expanded to its current scale, the company remained entirely under her control.


    If anything, that made her seem even more inscrutable!


    Especially considering someone like Gu Zhao bowed to her authority, diligently growing the company for years without a hint of disloyalty¡ªa stark contrast to his time at Wansheng.


    Did Gu Zhao suddenly become docile after leaving Wansheng?


    Of course not!


    If nothing else, the fact that Sheng Quan could tame Gu Zhao proved she was not someone to be underestimated.


    "So, with someone like President Sheng, I refuse to believe she just whimsically decided to make a gaming movie for fun. Starlight never rushes things, yet this film was produced in such a short time. I¡¯d bet anything she¡¯s got some grand scheme behind it."


    General Manager Lu might have been complaining, but he wasn¡¯t stupid. Though reluctant to abandon the marketing costs already sunk into his film, he decisively retreated without hesitation.


    "But the theme is full-dive VR¡ªcan they really pull it off in such a short time?"


    Full-dive gaming was a common theme in blockbuster films, but due to the need for dazzling special effects and A-list star power, production costs were usually much higher than other genres.


    Audiences mostly flocked to these movies for the big-screen spectacle and innovative settings. Such films were more common in Hollywood, while China rarely attempted them. The last domestic film with full-dive elements to break out was Stellar War.


    "Of course they can! Sky VFX is Starlight¡¯s go-to effects studio. I tried hiring them before, but they said all their artists were fully booked," Director Liu added. "They were probably rushing to finish the effects for this movie."


    "No wonder every Starlight project blows up," someone remarked, unable to hide their envy. "Not only are they loaded, but they¡¯ve got a top-tier VFX subsidiary at their disposal. Even their signed artists are all superstars¡ªhow could they not dominate?"


    "Exactly. Even a last-minute film like this looks like a guaranteed hit. And before they¡¯ve even recouped the box office, I heard Starlight¡¯s already prepping another big-budget project. I can¡¯t even keep up with how much there is to envy."


    "Another big project?"


    The eyes of those casually chatting immediately lit up. They might have missed this train, but perhaps they could catch the next one.


    "Starlight really is swimming in cash."


    "Their cash flow is insane. Those past blockbusters alone must¡¯ve brought in untold sums, not to mention those robotic dogs¡ªthose things cost a fortune at 1-2 million each, but people worldwide are scrambling to buy them."


    Director Liu raised his right index finger, signaling number one: "My guess? Starlight¡¯s liquidity is definitely this in our industry."


    "Can¡¯t compete, hahaha!"


    After collectively venting their jealousy, the dinner wrapped up. As everyone headed to their cars, General Manager Lu¡ªwho had been theatrically lamenting his losses¡ªimmediately pulled out his phone and called Sheng Quan:


    "Ah, President Sheng! It¡¯s me, Old Lu. Haha, nothing urgent¡ªjust wanted to wish you huge success with the new film. You know I¡¯ve got some pull in promotions, so if there¡¯s anything I can do to help, just say the word..."


    "Oh, and I heard Starlight¡¯s preparing another major project? Our company just signed a batch of new talent, so if you need..."


    Meanwhile, in a sleek black luxury car behind him, Director Liu also took out his phone, intending to congratulate Sheng Quan in advance¡ªonly to get a "the number you are calling is busy" message.


    "Damn it! Which bastard got ahead of me?!"


    He didn¡¯t need to guess¡ªit had to be one of the guys from dinner.


    Truthfully, everyone envied Sheng Quan, but that didn¡¯t stop them from acknowledging her fairness. She never hogged opportunities; when she feasted, she was happy to let others sip the broth.


    Otherwise, how could she remain unscathed despite being such a prominent target? After all, the saying goes, the nail that sticks out gets hammered down.


    ¡ªOf course, the dozen bodyguards around her might¡¯ve played a small role too.


    He turned to his secretary: "Do you know if President Sheng has any public appearances coming up?"


    The secretary in the passenger seat responded immediately: "President Sheng is attending C University¡¯s anniversary ceremony on the 3rd next month. Should I arrange for you to go?"


    "Do it. Also, prepare profiles of our rising artists¡ªI¡¯ll bring them for President Sheng to review."


    So what if he wasn¡¯t a C University alum or hadn¡¯t received an invitation? That hardly mattered.


    "Check if C University has any donation projects. Didn¡¯t President Sheng previously invest in students? If possible, I¡¯d like to sponsor some as well."


    The assistant reminded him, "Most of C University¡¯s investment projects are research-related and require substantial funding."


    "As long as it helps me get closer to Sheng Quan, any amount is worth it."


    Director Liu rolled down the car window and watched the trailer for The Player looping on the giant screen outside the mall:


    "I have a feeling this movie is going to make a huge splash."


    Quite a few people shared Director Liu¡¯s intuition. Most of them had either collaborated or competed with Starlight Entertainment before. Being part of the same circle, they had some understanding of each other¡¯s moves.


    No one believed that Starlight Entertainment, usually steady as a rock, had suddenly rushed production just to capitalize on the global tournament hype for box office gains.


    The investment for this film was simply too high¡ªso high that even if it became a blockbuster as predicted, the profits wouldn¡¯t justify the massive expenditure.


    They all vaguely sensed that Sheng Quan was up to something.


    But what exactly? No matter how much they analyzed, they couldn¡¯t figure it out.


    Some chose to step back and observe from the sidelines, while others, driven by instinct, tried their best to see if they could board the same ship as Sheng Quan.


    One executive even called an urgent meeting to discuss the reason behind Starlight Entertainment¡¯s unusual behavior.


    "No one will ever guess," Sheng Quan said with a faint, almost villainous smile, silencing her constantly ringing phone and setting it aside.


    "Even if I laid the truth right in front of them, no one would believe that holographic technology could appear so soon."


    "You have no idea how addictive the holographic pod is. Even though the visuals are just test images, they¡¯re incredibly immersive."


    Unlike Sheng Quan, who chatted casually while eating, Gu Zhao meticulously finished every last grain of rice in his bowl before setting down his chopsticks. He gestured for the server to clear his dishes¡ª


    ¡ªthen promptly pulled out his laptop and placed it on the table.


    He turned the screen toward Sheng Quan. "This is a forecast of how holographic technology will impact all our business operations. We¡¯ve made thorough preparations for every aspect."


    Even though she was used to it, Sheng Quan couldn¡¯t help but laugh at his seamless transition.


    "I thought we agreed this was just a casual chat over dinner, no work talk?"


    Gu Zhao glanced at his laptop. "I¡¯ve finished eating."


    Sheng Quan: "No wonder you were so focused on your meal just now."


    Apparently, in his mind, "dinner time" ended the moment he put down his chopsticks. She¡¯d bet the interval between him setting them aside and opening his laptop was less than twenty seconds.


    Realizing he¡¯d misunderstood, Gu Zhao raised his slender fingers, ready to close the laptop.


    But Sheng Quan stopped him. "Hand it over. I actually want to take a look."


    Holographic technology wasn¡¯t just for gaming¡ªotherwise, the moment Ning Zhou achieved a breakthrough, Sheng Quan¡¯s first instinct wouldn¡¯t have been to contact the government.


    Gu Zhao passed her the laptop. Normally indifferent to others, even he couldn¡¯t help but praise:


    "This is a technology that could change the world."


    "Even just in entertainment, it could instantly reshape the entire landscape."


    Sheng Quan¡¯s eyes sparkled as she scanned the screen. She looked up at Gu Zhao with a smile.


    "The good news is, it¡¯s in our hands."


    After reviewing everything, she signed electronically and handed the laptop back. "Now, all we need to do is make sure its debut is as impactful as possible."


    The instincts of their peers weren¡¯t wrong¡ªPolar: The Ultimate Player was indeed an exciting and captivating film. But in this high-stakes plan, the movie itself wasn¡¯t the main focus.


    The real question was: how would it be presented to the world?


    Remember Yu Miao, the girl who adored the celebrity "Green Green" and later landed a job at Starlight Entertainment?


    Well, she was back for another movie.


    She wasn¡¯t alone. Over the years, Starlight¡¯s productions had raised audience expectations so high that fans could blindly buy tickets the moment a new film was announced.


    Yu Miao was experienced enough to know that with the pre-release hype already at a fever pitch, tickets would sell out fast.


    Hadn¡¯t people already started posting online, "Bet you five spicy sticks I can snag a ticket this time"?


    The good news? She was a seasoned ticket-snatcher.


    With one minute left until presale, Yu Miao rubbed her hands together, checked her internet connection, and closed all unnecessary background apps¡ªready for the battle.


    Three seconds left. Just as she was about to strike, her finger slipped.


    By the time she looked back at the screen, only "Special Screening" tickets remained.


    Yu Miao: ???? What the heck is a "Special Screening"???


    And why was it so expensive?!


    No time to think. She decisively grabbed a Special Screening ticket¡ªafter all, refunds were an option.


    Her plan was simple: buy first, research later. If the "Special Screening" turned out to be a scam, she¡¯d refund and watch the movie a day or two later.


    But after securing her ticket, Yu Miao noticed something odd¡ªno cinema had ever offered something called a "Special Screening" before.


    Modern internet wisdom: When in doubt, post about it.


    Yu Miao immediately searched The Ultimate Player Special Screening on Weibo¡¯s real-time feed. Sure enough, tweets with #TheUltimatePlayerSpecialScreening were popping up nonstop.


    [What even is a "Special Screening" for The Ultimate Player? None of the other movies have this option.]


    [Most expensive movie ticket I¡¯ve ever bought¡ªThe Ultimate Player Special Screening, priced at 299 yuan. Have the cinemas lost their minds???]


    [Is this a mistake? Never heard of "Special Screenings" before.]


    [299 yuan? Am I crazy, or is the studio?]


    [Starlight has always been consumer-friendly. Are they turning into greedy capitalists now? Charging 299 for a ticket is just fleecing the audience.]


    Yu Miao didn¡¯t post but kept refreshing as more tweets poured in. Some found it outrageous, some refunded immediately to wait and see, and others¡ªlike her¡ªwere die-hard Sheng Quan fans, torn between the high price and their loyalty.


    Seeing the flood of new tweets, sometimes several per second, Yu Miao knew it would trend.


    Sure enough, #TheUltimatePlayerSpecialScreening soon hit the hot search.


    "What?! The Ultimate Player has a Special Screening at 299 yuan?! Has Sheng Quan lost it?!"


    General Manager Lu nearly choked on his tea. After confirming it online, he muttered in confusion, "Special Screening? Is there some actor interaction? Even then, 299 is outrageous."


    "Can I still get a ticket now? Hurry and buy one for me¡ªI need to see what Sheng Quan is up to."


    ¡ª"Special screening?"


    At Bluebird Entertainment, Xie Wanzhao stared at the new trending topic on the hot search list, recalling the mysterious behavior of those cinemas lately. Though she still couldn¡¯t figure out the reason, she pulled out her phone and called a big-shot theater chain executive she knew.


    "Old He, it¡¯s me, Xie Wanzhao. Can you get me a ticket for The Best Player special screening? I want to check it out."


    ¡ª"I knew it. There¡¯s definitely something going on here. I don¡¯t know what it is, but Sheng Quan is definitely hiding a big move."


    Director Liu was on the phone with his fair-weather friends, declaring confidently, "Just wait and see. Our President Sheng never does anything without a purpose."


    There were plenty of executives like him.


    A movie ticket priced at 299 yuan? Whether from the audience¡¯s perspective or the film industry¡¯s, it could only be described with one word: insane.


    Clearly, Sheng Quan wasn¡¯t insane.


    On the hot search, countless people¡ªwhether moviegoers or not¡ªgathered to discuss what exactly this "special screening" was.


    When they called the cinemas to ask, the responses were frustratingly vague: "A special screening is different from a regular one¡ªit¡¯s special."


    Meanwhile, the executives tried every possible way to dig up what was inside the special screening. But the cinemas hosting it kept their lips sealed as if glued shut¡ªno matter how close the relationship, they refused to spill a word.


    As the hype grew, everyone began to realize: the 299-yuan special screening might just be a marketing stunt.


    Hadn¡¯t they noticed even non-entertainment media outlets were now covering this "sky-high movie ticket"?


    And because the film was simultaneously released overseas, with two major theater chains also selling special screening tickets at equally outrageous prices, it created a global buzz¡ªeveryone was talking about "just how special this special screening really is."


    Director Liu felt Sheng Quan¡¯s move was far too unconventional.


    "If ?????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????what¡¯s inside the special screening isn¡¯t special enough and it backfires, the backlash will be instant."


    Movie tickets usually cost just a few dozen yuan. For Sheng Quan to charge hundreds¡ªand as an official move¡ªif the content failed to meet expectations, the backlash would be brutal.


    He secretly relished the thought of watching the drama unfold... or so he told himself.


    As the saying goes, adding flowers to brocade is easy; delivering charcoal in snowy weather is hard. Sheng Quan had deep resources¡ªno single movie could bring them down. Director Liu wasn¡¯t foolish enough to make an enemy of them.


    Instead, he eagerly called to offer his "support," expressing his willingness to help if Starlight Entertainment had made a promotional misstep.


    Sheng Quan thanked him for his kindness, then replied with a smile:


    "Thank you, Director Liu. But I believe the content of the special screening will satisfy the audience."


    Director Liu: "..."


    That confident, huh?


    No matter how special it is, isn¡¯t it still just a movie?


    299 yuan for one screening¡ªwhat kind of setup would it take for the audience to feel it was worth it?


    This only strengthened his resolve to see it for himself.


    Many shared Director Liu¡¯s curiosity, including the audience members who had bought tickets. Some were simply intrigued, while others were thinking, "If they dare to rip me off, I¡¯ll tear them apart online."


    Others, like the executives, believed that since they¡¯d paid for the tickets and Starlight Entertainment was thriving¡ªnot on the verge of bankruptcy¡ªthey must be in for a premium experience.


    Some even speculated that the theater seats would come with gifts worth more than 299 yuan.


    As for Yu Miao, her reason for not refunding her ticket aligned with the last group: she refused to believe President Sheng would scam the audience.


    Holding onto her trust in Sheng Quan, Yu Miao gritted her teeth and paid the 299 yuan. On June 21st, she stepped into the cinema.


    Waiting, ticket-checking, entering¡ªeverything proceeded as usual, except for one thing: this cinema had somehow added a "Theater 10" out of nowhere.


    Polar¡ªThe Best Player was screening in Theater 10.


    Was this set up specifically for the special screening?


    See? President Sheng was too kind to let their 299 yuan go to waste. Maybe it was something like an Easter egg!


    With a mix of curiosity, anticipation, and a little thrill, Yu Miao stepped into this never-before-seen theater.


    The moment she entered, she froze.


    The lights were still on since the screening hadn¡¯t started yet, but what wasn¡¯t normal was... why were there so few seats?


    Worse, Yu Miao looked around¡ªup, down, left, right¡ªbut couldn¡¯t find the movie screen.


    "Where¡¯s the screen?"


    Other audience members who had entered around the same time were also murmuring in surprise:


    "Why are the seats arranged so weirdly?"


    "Which direction is the screen in?"


    "Is the special screening some kind of live performance? No way¡ªI just want to watch a movie, not some gimmick."


    "Maybe a celebrity is coming? Ahhh, if it¡¯s Hua Qing, I¡¯ll die!! I love her!!!"


    "Could be Yan Hui! Or Jiang Zhen! Jiang Zhen!!"


    The audience buzzed with speculation, but under the staff¡¯s knowing "a huge surprise awaits you" expressions and directions, they eventually took their assigned seats.


    Their collective mindset was: Alright, let¡¯s see what kind of ¡®huge surprise¡¯ you¡¯ve got.


    Yu Miao sat down, her excitement and anticipation growing.


    ¡ªBANG!


    The lights went out. It was time for the movie.


    A beam of light appeared in front of Yu Miao, like a beautiful star drifting through space, floating slowly in midair.


    A voice announcement played:


    "This screening will utilize the following format: holographic projection. Please remain quiet during the film. If you experience any startling reactions, contact staff for assistance."


    Yu Miao: "..."


    The rest of the audience: "..."


    In perfect unison, their eyes widened, faces blank with shock and disbelief.


    Holo... holographic...


    Holographic projection?!?!

 Chapter 102

    For ordinary people, holographic technology has always been something only imagined.


    The most they¡¯ve seen of it is in various dubious media reports.


    ["XYZ Institution Develops Holographic XXX"]


    ["Holographic Technology Achieves XXX, Expected to XXX by XX Year"]


    After seeing enough of these, everyone just assumed that holographic technology was still in the research phase, and even if it were developed, it certainly wouldn¡¯t be applied to everyday life anytime soon.


    For the average person to see or use holographic technology, it would take at least fifty years... right?


    That was their initial assumption.


    Until a movie appeared before them in holographic projection.


    Everyone was stunned.


    Some even wondered if it was a joke.


    Holographic projection technology?


    Just like that, in a movie theater?


    And for only 299 yuan?!


    Yu Miao learned for the first time that when people are utterly shocked, they can¡¯t even make a sound.


    In the dead silence, the movie¡¯s sound effects became even more vivid and immersive.


    The audience first saw a row of dolphins playing, appearing out of thin air, leaping in unison through the air. When they dove down, the "floor" beneath them had somehow transformed into crystal-clear seawater.


    ¡ªSplash!


    The dolphins joyfully plunged in, sending towering sprays of water into the air.


    The droplets flew so high that the audience instinctively flinched back, only to bump into their seats and remember¡ªthey were watching a movie.


    This was holographic projection, not real.


    But... it felt so real!


    To put it simply, anyone who¡¯s seen dolphins in person knows that photos or videos can¡¯t compare to the real thing.


    It¡¯s like how many people have seen beluga whales on TV¡ªknowing their size, their diet¡ªbut no amount of footage prepares you for the awe of seeing their massive bodies in person.


    Before Yu Miao had ever been to a theater, she thought watching movies was just about the plot. What difference did it make whether she watched on a computer or TV?


    Then she experienced 3D, IMAX, and so on, and realized it was the difference between a casual viewing and a full sensory feast.


    And holographic projection? It was a hundred¡ªno, a thousand¡ªtimes more immersive than even those premium experiences.


    Right now, it truly felt like real dolphins were frolicking right in front of them. Some audience members, snapping out of their daze, even tentatively reached out to touch the nearest one.


    ¡ªOf course, their hands passed through nothing.


    Yu Miao also swiped at empty air, suddenly understanding why the staff had repeatedly reminded everyone to fasten their seatbelts¡ªprobably to stop people from rushing into the "water" to pet the dolphins.


    Then, a tremendous splash echoed in their ears. The vast blue expanse before them suddenly plunged downward, not as a jarring cut but as if they themselves were sinking into the depths.


    A dazzling underwater world unfolded: tiny fish, shrimp, sea turtles, and even playful little squids darted about. A crab strutted sideways with comical arrogance, while seahorses stood upright among coral clusters.


    As the dolphins chased each other through the water, the scene shifted seamlessly, presenting the audience with a hyper-realistic undersea realm.


    Yu Miao had never seen a live seahorse before and found them utterly adorable. Then, a group of penguins glided into view¡ªround, streamlined bodies with snowy white bellies. One even swam close to the audience, prompting an entire row of people to instinctively reach out.


    Yu Miao did too, though her fingers met nothing. This was also her first time seeing live penguins¡ªor rather, she was already treating everything before her as "real" and "alive."


    Her excitement cooled slightly when she realized: Wait, don¡¯t dolphins and penguins live in completely different climates?


    The moment the thought crossed her mind, a whirlpool erupted in the tranquil depths, growing rapidly until it swallowed everything in its path.


    The audience, still immersed in the underwater fantasy, gasped as the once-serene "ocean" was violently churned into chaos. Then, the entire seabed seemed to flip upside down.


    The visual disorientation made many lose their balance, as if they might plummet into the abyss. Shouts erupted around Yu Miao, and she herself gripped the armrests tightly.


    Yu Miao: So this is why they told us to buckle up.


    Witnessing the "ocean" drain away and the "sky" collapse¡ªeven knowing it was just a movie¡ªthe sheer realism kept everyone on edge.


    Suddenly, a voice cut through the chaos.


    "Can¡¯t ?????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????you design scenes with some basic logic? I asked for an ocean, not a dumping ground for every sea creature you could think of."


    ¡ªFzzzt, fzzzt¡ªaccompanied by glitch-like flickers, a figure gradually materialized in midair.


    She was strikingly beautiful, dressed in a familiar Chinese school uniform¡ªlong sleeves, long pants, with a short, bob-cut hairstyle dyed in rainbow colors. A transparent visor covered her eyes.


    While grumbling, she waved her fingers, "patching" the torn sky and "compacting" the fractured ground. With another flick, all the sea creatures floating in the water suddenly soared into the air.


    She pointed at them one by one:


    "These are Antarctic penguins. Delete."


    "This one¡¯s a solitary species. Keep your distance."


    "And this¡ª"


    After scrapping a few, she whirled around and snapped:


    "What kind of idiot dumps deep-sea freaks into shallow waters? What were you thinking?"


    Behind her, another figure stuttered into existence¡ªa lanky man in skintight white gear. Unlike his expressive superior, his face was eerily blank, as if frozen mid-botox.


    But his voice dripped with guilt, muttering under his breath:


    "I don¡¯t get why management cares. It¡¯s just a game. Can¡¯t we place things wherever we want?"


    The mismatch between his deadpan face and whiny tone instantly reminded the audience: This was all inside a game.


    On-screen, the woman scoffed, her features animated (clearly unbound by the game¡¯s "character limits"):


    "Just let us do whatever we want? Do you know about the Minor Protection Act for Full-Immersion Games? Instance-based games are one thing, but for scenic environments, if there¡¯s any inconsistency with reality, the server will be shut down for rectification."


    "I¡¯m warning you, Intern 998. If you make this mistake again, your probation period ends immediately, and I¡¯ll request your transfer out of the World Maintenance Department."


    The man¡¯s face remained expressionless, but his tone instantly turned pleading: "No, please, Team Leader!! I worked so hard to get in here!"


    "My bad, my bad! I¡¯ll fix it right away!"


    Yu Miao sat and watched as the man meticulously repaired the underwater scenery. The surreal sensation of seeing one person controlling the placement of every element¡ªparting the seas, stitching the sky¡ªwas utterly novel and thrilling.


    Even though the audience knew it was just a game, they were still awestruck.


    Of course, the epic background music played no small part in that.


    From the very beginning, the viewers were captivated.


    And they remained spellbound until the very end.


    Truth be told, the movie¡¯s plot wasn¡¯t exceptionally groundbreaking. It was set in the era of full-immersion technology, where "Polaris," already a renowned game, became even more legendary with the advent of VR.


    Yet, the protagonist wasn¡¯t the first character introduced¡ªthe beautiful world maintenance officer¡ªnor was it the underdog player who rose to victory in the player battles. It wasn¡¯t even the pair of 15-year-old twins, who looked every bit like main characters and managed to cobble together a rudimentary full-immersion pod using self-taught VR knowledge.


    The protagonist was Wang Kaixin, a seemingly unremarkable young woman.


    She didn¡¯t have the privileged status of a maintenance officer, the top-tier combat skills to dominate the player rankings, or the genius-level ability to build her own full-immersion pod.


    At the start of the story, she was just an ordinary player, indulging in the game like most others¡ªalmost to the point of being a bit of an addict. But in the full-immersion era, where everyone had a touch of "digital addiction," this wasn¡¯t unusual at all.


    Then, the game announced an event: complete a series of quests, earn the title of "Best Player," and win a luxurious, limited-edition "Version 000" full-immersion pod.


    Instantly, the entire player base went wild¡ªincluding Wang Kaixin, who had always been content with sightseeing and avoiding competition.


    Though full-immersion technology was widespread, not everyone could afford a pod. Most players used VR helmets, which relied on handheld controllers for movement.


    The learning curve was steep, but muscle memory kicked in with practice. Since they were the cheapest option, helmets were the best-sellers.


    Those with a bit more money could pair their helmets with a "full-motion treadmill" setup.


    And if they had even deeper pockets, they could invest in a full-body movement rig.


    But the full-immersion pod was the pinnacle of gaming tech. Not only did it simulate all five senses for an unparalleled experience, but it also allowed players to enjoy the game while lying comfortably.


    Of course, even in this era of advanced VR, the high production costs meant these top-tier pods were prohibitively expensive¡ªfar beyond the reach of the average person.


    Full-immersion pods were categorized into tiers 1 through 9, with lower numbers indicating better performance and higher price tags.


    But the "Version 000" wasn¡¯t part of this ranking¡ªbecause it surpassed them all. Marketed as a perfect 1:1 replica of reality, it promised identical visuals, scents, and even tactile sensations.


    In other words, owning a Version 000 pod meant the world of "Polaris" would become a second reality.


    How could players not go crazy for it?


    They lost their minds over it!


    Even Wang Kaixin, who had always been content with sightseeing, was no exception. Her first notable appearance was during a competition where the world maintenance officer also participated. While everyone else gave up, the two of them persevered.


    The maintenance officer struck up a conversation, learning her name was Wang Kaixin. When the next round turned out to be team-based, they naturally decided to pair up.


    Later, they met the top-ranked player¡ªwho no one else wanted to team with¡ªand the genius twins.


    The game developers had designed the challenges meticulously, blending strategy, teamwork, and even obscure historical and scientific knowledge.


    After going through so much together, the group became friends.


    One day, they gathered and shared why they wanted the Version 000 pod.


    The maintenance officer admitted she was a collector¡ªshe had every model except the 000, which wasn¡¯t sold commercially. She needed it to complete her set.


    The top-ranked player was driven by his obsession with winning. He didn¡¯t care much about the pod itself, but since it was a competition, he had to come out on top.


    The twins? They just wanted to take it apart and study it.


    Though their reasons differed, all of them were determined to win.


    The maintenance officer couldn¡¯t sleep without completing her collection. The top player would lose his mind if someone else won. The twins saw it as a once-in-a-lifetime research opportunity.


    When it was Wang Kaixin¡¯s turn, she explained that she was about to start a job at a company that banned full-immersion gaming. She just wanted to experience the pod before quitting the game.


    With such a quirky but talented group, sparks were bound to fly. As the story unfolded, Wang Kaixin¡ªthe only one without any extraordinary skills¡ªgradually became the heart of the makeshift team.


    And to the audience, it felt completely natural.


    Wang Kaixin was just an ordinary person, and she never pretended otherwise. Even during the competition, while her teammates were fiercely driven, she remained unfazed¡ªhappy if she won, unbothered if she didn¡¯t.


    Many of her lines resonated deeply, even with Yu Miao, who was watching from the sidelines.


    ¡ª"You don¡¯t need to feel guilty about loving to collect things. Having a passion, a goal in life¡ªthat¡¯s something to be happy about, even envied."


    ¡ª"Just do it. Doesn¡¯t matter if you succeed or fail. The point is that you tried."


    ¡ª"I used to be a dancer. Now, I¡¯m a fighter."


    ¡ª"Angry? Of course you are. So am I. Let¡¯s be angry together, then get back at those jerks."


    ¡ª"No matter what, you still gotta eat."


    The story was engaging, especially with its clever twists and high-stakes challenges. And in the end, as expected, it was Wang Kaixin who passed the final test¡ª"Serenity."


    In the end, Wang Kaixin obtained the game''s full immersion pod, but her teammates were only happy for her.


    The maintenance technician no longer obsessed over his collection habits, the top-ranked player stopped worrying about losing face if he didn¡¯t secure first place, and the twins finally learned to eat properly and take care of themselves.


    It was a rather satisfying, happy ending.


    If she had to rate it, Yu Miao would give the plot an eight at most¡ªnowhere near the legendary status of The Cultivator or Stellar War.


    But its setting, the well-crafted characters, and the breathtakingly realistic visuals that made her feel like she was living the experience¡ªif Yu Miao had to choose just one movie to rewatch forever, she¡¯d pick The Player without hesitation.


    The final scene showed Wang Kaixin stepping into the full immersion pod for the first time. She gingerly touched the grass, ran her fingers over tree leaves, picked up a rabbit, and then slowly walked forward.


    Her friends came to celebrate with her, only to find Wang Kaixin dancing tirelessly in the meadow. When she turned and saw them, she stretched out her hand, inviting them to join.


    Finally, she announced that she was about to enter a very busy work phase and would have to quit the game.


    Her friends were reluctant to let her go, but since Wang Kaixin had hinted at this before, they weren¡¯t entirely surprised. They danced together for a long time before parting ways with lingering reluctance.


    As Wang Kaixin turned to leave, she took a few light steps, then smiled up at the sky:


    ¡°The sky is so beautiful.¡±


    Five days later, each of her friends received the transfer of her full immersion pod access rights, along with a personal message left for them in the game.


    This was where the movie should have ended.


    And that¡¯s what all the audience believed¡ªuntil the very last moment.


    With a beep¡ª sound, the familiar game logout screen reappeared, one that viewers had seen many times before.


    Then, a flash of white light.


    ¡°March 4, 2052, 10:03 AM.¡±


    The light focused, revealing a man in a white lab coat, jotting down notes: ¡°Patient Wang Kaixin deceased, aged 83.¡±


    Cries rose from beside the bed. Family members clutched her frail, wrinkled hand as someone sobbed, ¡°Grandma...¡±


    ¡°Don¡¯t cry. The doctors said it was a miracle she held on for so long.¡±


    ¡°Last year when I visited, she kept saying she wanted to dance¡ªbut at her age, how could she?¡±


    The camera slowly panned to the hospital bed. The elderly woman¡¯s sunken cheeks bore the marks of prolonged suffering, yet her face wore a peaceful smile, as if she had simply fallen asleep.


    Yu Miao sat frozen in shock.


    Wang Kaixin¡ªthe cheerful, carefree woman who always seemed the least invested in the full immersion pod¡ªwas actually an 83-year-old grandmother.


    And one who had been battling illness all along.


    Suddenly, all the subtle hints and carefully placed details about Wang Kaixin throughout the movie flooded Yu Miao¡¯s mind. Everything made sense now.


    She remembered the maintenance technician asking Wang Kaixin:


    ¡ª¡°Is the place you¡¯re going to work very far?¡±


    ¡ª¡°Probably. But I think I¡¯ll be happy when I get there.¡±


    And she was happy. When she could stand again, smell flowers, see sunlight, and dance freely under its warmth, her smile had been radiant with pure joy.


    The significance of full immersion technology was laid bare in this moment.


    Even as the lights came on in Theater 10, Yu Miao remained stunned.


    Most of the audience shared her reaction, though a few quicker to process had already moved on¡ªsome discussing excitedly with friends, others wiping away tears, and a handful already on their phones while heading for the exits.


    ¡°Holy !! This movie was AMAZING!! And you know what the special screening was?! Full holograms!! Actual holographic projection!! No, not some gimmick¡ªREAL holographic tech! It felt like we were inside the world!¡±


    ¡°I¡¯M NOT JOKING!! IT¡¯S REAL!! No, seriously, I¡¯m not lying¡ªit¡¯s actually holographic!! What? You don¡¯t believe me? Fine, buy a ticket yourself¡ªno, wait, DON¡¯T, because I need to watch this ten more times!!¡±


    Yu Miao finally snapped out of her daze.


    Right!!!


    The special 299-yuan screening was holographic! She had to tell everyone¡ªfriends, family, coworkers, online buddies.


    And she¡¯d add: The movie itself is incredible!! A must-watch!!!


    Across the world, every viewer who had attended the special screening reacted just like Yu Miao, pulling out their phones to rave in awe.


    Meanwhile, online forums buzzed with questions:


    ¡°Has anyone finished watching yet?¡±


    ¡°What¡¯s so special about the special screening?¡±


    ¡°What¡¯s going on? It¡¯s just a movie, not a blackout¡ªwhy is no one talking?¡±


    ¡°Some clown said it¡¯s holographic. Yeah, right.¡±


    The truth was, the holographic experience had been so overwhelming that even though audiences had their phones, barely anyone thought to post live updates. The few who did¡ªsquealing The special screening for The Player is ACTUALLY holographic!!¡ªwere dismissed as pranksters.


    After all, everyone ¡°knew¡± holograms were still sci-fi. And if it were real, wouldn¡¯t the internet have exploded already?


    How could only a handful of people be talking about it?


    Then the movie ended.


    And the floodgates opened.


    Thousands of special screening attendees unleashed a frenzy of posts:


    ¡ªOMG IT¡¯S REAL HOLOGRAMS IT¡¯S ACTUALLY REAL THE WHOLE THING WAS A FULL IMMERSION WORLD HOW IS THIS POSSIBLE HOLOGRAMS ARE HERE AAAAAHHHHHH!!!!


    The skeptics who had sworn it was impossible: ¡°...¡±


    Wait... it¡¯s true?


    And if holographic tech is already being used for movies... does that mean the full immersion pods in the film¡¯s story are also...?


    Everyone: ¡°...¡±


    HOLY !!!!

 Chapter 103

    Not only ordinary audiences had watched the special screening together.


    Many of Sheng Quan''s "peers" had also squeezed time out of their busy schedules to step into the cinema.


    When they entered, they carried the mindset of "Let me see what tricks Xing Mang is pulling this time." But by the time they left, one after another fell into silence.


    Some even remained seated long after the film ended, motionless, as if lost in thought, until staff came to urge them out. Their steps were slow, almost dragging.


    One even stumbled while walking, requiring quick support from their subordinate.


    It wasn¡¯t that they lacked the same level of acceptance as the general audience.


    What the audience saw was "the movie is amazing" and "holographic projection is mind-blowing!"


    But these executives, who shared the same industry circle as Sheng Quan, saw something else¡ªthe inevitable revolution the entire entertainment industry would face with the emergence of holographic projection technology.


    And if they thought a little deeper, they could guess:


    If holographic projection is already here, what about the rest of the holographic-related technologies?


    Could Sheng Quan, no longer just "Little Sheng" but a formidable force, already possess the kind of equipment shown in the film¡ªfull-dive holographic pods that allow users to experience a second, lifelike world?


    Sheng Quan had always been ten steps ahead. Rushing to produce a movie centered around holographic gaming¡ªwas it really just to showcase holographic projection?


    At a cinema in Shanghai, Xie Wanzhao exited the theater, descended to the parking garage, and got into her car.


    She opened her phone and saw the trending topic #TheBestPlayerHologram rapidly climbing on the hot search list. Taking a deep breath, she couldn¡¯t tell whether she felt excitement or melancholy.


    "The winds are changing," she murmured.


    Her assistant, who had just taken the passenger seat, quickly checked the weather app.


    Sure enough¡ªit had been sunny when they left, but a heavy downpour was on its way.


    "Holographic projection?! In a cinema?! Is this for real?!"


    The news wasn¡¯t just spreading like wildfire online. What¡¯s the first thing netizens do after seeing explosive news? Share it with friends and family, of course.


    Countless office workers, mid-shift, suddenly found themselves gossiping: "It¡¯s real, check the trending searches¡ªit¡¯s about The Best Player."


    "Is this just marketing?" A colleague, well-versed in the entertainment industry¡¯s tricks, questioned. "Isn¡¯t The Best Player about holographic gaming? They¡¯re probably using ''holograms'' as a gimmick."


    But after a quick scroll through her phone, she backtracked:


    "Who cares if it¡¯s marketing? Even if it is, it¡¯s holographic projection."


    Many shared her sentiment. They didn¡¯t care whether this was a promotional stunt¡ªif the holograms were real, even a 999-yuan ticket would be worth it.


    Recording wasn¡¯t allowed in cinemas, and most viewers had been too awestruck to try. Only a handful managed to sneak short clips.


    Given the circumstances, theaters turned a blind eye¡ªunless someone went too far.


    No matter how many skeptics cried, "How could holographic tech exist now?" the footage¡ªsome clear, some blurry¡ªwas undeniable proof.


    [I didn¡¯t believe it at first, but everyone who bought tickets for the special screening is saying the same thing. Can all of them be paid shills?]


    [I¡¯ve already got tickets for tomorrow¡¯s special screening. Can¡¯t wait to see for myself.]


    [No official statement yet, but I doubt it¡¯s just hype. Remember Stellar War? That crew straight-up invented a bunch of high-tech gadgets. People called them fake back then, but now? Guide-dog robots are still sold out everywhere.]


    With evidence piling up, swarms of netizens scrambled to buy tickets¡ªonly to find every last one sold out, even the worst seats.


    [Hahahaha! The moment I heard "holographic projection" during the movie, I rushed to buy a ticket for the day after. Genius move. So hyped!]


    [Nooo! I hesitated for a second, and now they¡¯re all gone!]


    [Looking to buy a special screening ticket¡ªwilling to pay triple!]


    [Triple? They¡¯re going for five times the price now. Get with the times.]


    [Five times?! That¡¯s over 1,500 yuan! You guys are insane!]


    [I¡¯ve got one. A classmate offered five times the price, but after thinking it over, I¡¯m keeping it. Money can be earned later, but if this is the only chance to see holographic cinema...]


    Those who hadn¡¯t seen it wanted to witness the magic for themselves.


    Those who had were desperate for a rewatch. When they couldn¡¯t get special screening tickets, they turned to regular screenings¡ªonly to find those sold out too.


    Yu Miao, who had been raving about the film to everyone she knew, stared at her phone in disbelief.


    "Not a single ticket left¡ªnot even the worst seats."


    Her best friend, who had endured her enthusiastic rambling and was now hoping to catch a regular screening, did a quick search.


    "...Seriously?! Regular tickets are already triple the price! These scalpers are ruthless!"


    Yu Miao, still in full fangirl mode, switched to her "Sheng Quan stan" persona. "Of course! Anything Xing Mang puts out, scalpers go wild for."


    Her friend glared. "Why are you proud of that? We can¡¯t get tickets now!"


    Yu Miao¡¯s face fell. "Oh. Right." She frantically tapped her screen. "Aaaah! You have no idea how good it is, how mind-blowing the ending is! If I can¡¯t watch it with you, I won¡¯t sleep tonight!"


    Just as they were desperately refreshing for cancellations, a work group notification popped up¡ª@everyone.


    Yu Miao clicked in.


    [@all, surprise benefit: Each department member gets one free ticket to Polaris: The Best Player. Outstanding employees get two. Contact your supervisor to claim.]


    The entire group: "!!!!"


    With The Best Player in such high demand¡ªtickets were practically gold dust¡ªgetting them for free was an absolute windfall.


    Even those who didn¡¯t care for movies could resell them for a tidy profit. This was an unexpected jackpot.


    Star Employee Yu Miao: "!!!!"


    Ahhhhhhh!!


    Overwhelmed with excitement, she hugged her best friend tightly: "Long live Starry Light!! Long live President Sheng!!!"


    To be honest, distributing the complimentary tickets was indeed Sheng Quan''s idea.


    Not only were these tickets a drop in the bucket for her financially, but as the production company, securing them was a breeze.


    With a stack of tickets in hand, of course, she¡¯d share them with her own people.


    Since the company didn¡¯t impose any confidentiality, employees who received the tickets naturally flaunted them happily.


    Most posted about it on their social media, but some even bragged about it on Weibo.


    Yesterday I was complaining about not being able to buy tickets, and today the company hands out "The Players" movie tickets as a perk! This must be the perk of being an insider (smirks).


    Netizens who couldn¡¯t snag tickets: "How infuriating!!"


    "The Players" was already a hit, but after the first wave of viewers gave it rave reviews, even the hesitant audience rushed to join the ticket queues. Add the allure of [holographic projection], and tickets became even harder to get.


    So, while everyone was desperately scrambling for tickets, here was a company generously handing them out as employee benefits.


    The Weibo post quickly racked up countless comments.


    At first glance: Which company has such amazing benefits? | Upon closer look: Oh, it''s Starry Light. That explains it.


    ["Wuwuwu Starry Light actually gives tickets to their employees at a time like this¡ªthis is the dream company."]


    ["I saw a Starry Light employee flexing their tickets on my feed too. Not saying who¡¯s jealous here."]


    ["Did some digging¡ªturns out top performers even get two tickets! Ahhhhh! If you watch one and sell the other, that¡¯s basically a free 1,000+ yuan! President Sheng is too generous!"]


    Starry Light''s benefits are legendary, so this isn''t surprising, but that doesn''t stop me from being jealous.


    ["No wonder everyone says Starry Light is hard to get into, yet every graduation season, fresh grads still fight tooth and nail to join."]


    ["After two days of frantic ticket hunting with zero luck, I¡¯m howling at the moon¡ªplease let me join Starry Light after graduation! I¡¯m well-rounded in every way and will be a diligent little cog in the Starry Light machine."]


    Just like in China, news about "The Players" spread like wildfire in every country where it premiered.


    Ordinary viewers were thrilled, raving about how amazing the movie was while eagerly anticipating the dawn of the holographic era.


    The slightly more perceptive ones immediately started analyzing how holography would impact their industries.


    And ?????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????the sharpest CEOs? They were already trying to get in touch with Sheng Quan.


    Once again, President Sheng¡¯s phone wouldn¡¯t stop ringing.


    But even noisier were the phones of her three assistants and Starry Light Entertainment¡¯s dedicated liaison department.


    Sheng Quan had seen this coming.


    Among the flood of calls, Polar Studios¡¯ official line hadn¡¯t reached out yet.


    "No worries, they¡¯ll come soon enough."


    After saying this to Brother Jiang, she signaled the company¡¯s official accounts¡ªwhich had stayed silent until now¡ªto respond.


    That same day, another hashtag trended:


    #Holographic Game Pods in "Polar: The Players" May Be Real#

 Chapter 104

    "Holographic Pod?"


    The shareholders of Polaroid were numerous and divided into various factions. When Sheng Quan first ventured into filmmaking, no one paid much attention. But the moment she announced plans to release a holographic pod, the room erupted in chaos.


    "Is this for real?"


    "I doubt it. Do you really think a holographic pod can just be developed overnight? Our VR equipment has consumed massive investments just to reach its current state. I can¡¯t believe she could pull off a holographic pod in such a short time."


    "Don¡¯t be so sure," countered a blonde-haired shareholder, scanning the data on his tablet. "Have you forgotten how she brought those robotic dogs to market?"


    The others exchanged uneasy glances.


    Though they were Polaroid shareholders, many of them had stakes in other industries as well. Smart robotics had always been a lucrative field, and when Sheng Quan introduced her robotic dogs, countless competitors in the sector took a hit.


    Of course, for every loser, there were winners. While some businesses crumbled, others rode the wave of Sheng Quan¡¯s success to new heights.


    Whether they had suffered or prospered, one thing was clear¡ªSheng Quan was a force to be reckoned with.


    She was no longer the small-time CEO who struggled to elevate an unknown artist, constantly questioned for her ability to make stars.


    The major shareholders scowled, while the smaller ones exchanged knowing looks, each calculating their next move.


    Polaroid wasn¡¯t a family-run business. Its vast, interconnected network was held together by shared interests. But when those interests diverged, the dynamics shifted¡ªjust like how old-fashioned flip phones were inevitably replaced by smartphones.


    Try asking a young person today to use a brick phone¡ªhow many would agree?


    When it came to holographic pods versus VR, even the shareholders had to admit: if given the choice, they¡¯d pick the holographic pod.


    A true second world? Who wouldn¡¯t want that?


    "We can¡¯t just sit back and do nothing."


    While the minor shareholders were already preparing their exit strategies, the major stakeholders¡ªwhose primary business was Polaroid¡ªrefused to stand by as Sheng Quan overshadowed them with her holographic technology.


    Meetings, debates, research¡ªthe employees at Polaroid could sense the tension. Their superiors moved with urgency, faces grim, and the top-floor conference room often stayed lit until the early hours.


    In hushed tones, Polaroid staff whispered among themselves.


    "Could the news about the holographic pod from China be true?"


    "If it is, that¡¯d be amazing. I saw that movie¡ªanother masterpiece from Starlight Productions. If the holographic pod is real, does that mean we could go anywhere without leaving home?"


    "Maybe worry about whether we¡¯ll still have jobs first."


    The younger employee shrugged. "Unemployed? Not necessarily. Even with holographics, they¡¯ll still need our expertise. A job¡¯s a job, no matter where you do it."


    As a member of the younger generation, he was far more excited about the holographic pod than concerned about unemployment.


    Once the two left the break room, a high-ranking shareholder slammed his cup onto the table.


    If even Polaroid¡¯s own employees were this eager for the holographic pod, how much more so the general public?


    It was clear¡ªif Sheng Quan¡¯s holographic technology hit the market, Polaroid¡¯s empire would crumble overnight.


    As the major shareholder brooded, his assistant approached.


    "A call from Ms. Sheng Quan. She says she¡¯d like to speak with you."


    "We have the holographic pod technology, but developing a new game from scratch would take at least two to three years. For something on a massive scale, four to five. That¡¯s why cooperation with Polaroid would be ideal."


    Sheng Quan was stacking playing cards¡ªa new hobby she¡¯d recently taken up. She had already built a towering structure and was now carefully placing the final pieces.


    Gu Zhao, however, doubted Polaroid would agree. "A company that¡¯s had the whole cake to itself for so long isn¡¯t likely to share."


    Polaroid wasn¡¯t just a gaming giant because of its content. Over the years, competitors had emerged, but under Polaroid¡¯s aggressive business tactics, most had faded into obscurity.


    Gu Zhao didn¡¯t see anything wrong with this approach. The business world was a battlefield¡ªif Polaroid had let its rivals thrive, that would¡¯ve been the real surprise.


    But he couldn¡¯t imagine a company so used to dominance suddenly playing nice.


    "Then it¡¯s up to them to decide," Sheng Quan said, admiring her card tower before turning to Gu Zhao with a smile. "But this isn¡¯t my only plan."


    "Don¡¯t forget¡ªI¡¯m also a Polaroid shareholder. A minor one, but it¡¯s enough."


    Gu Zhao looked up, realization dawning in his usually impassive gray eyes. A faint smile touched his lips.


    "So you¡¯ve been preparing for this."


    Gu Zhao and the other close associates knew about Sheng Quan¡¯s two-billion-yuan gaming spree to acquire year-end shares, but none of them had questioned it.


    Yu Xiangwan, for one, would praise anything Sheng Quan did. If she spent two billion playing games¡ªor even tossing it into the ocean¡ªhe¡¯d adjust his gold-rimmed glasses and calmly declare that no one could throw money away as brilliantly as Sheng Quan.


    As for Gu Zhao? He simply saw it as her personal indulgence¡ªno different from his own fondness for tending to his potted plants.


    (Of course, Gu Zhao conveniently ignored how, back at Wansheng, he¡¯d scoffed at former bosses Chen Xuanzheng and He Qi for their expensive hobbies¡ªracing cars and cycling through girlfriends¡ªdeeming it a waste of time. The hypocrisy never crossed his mind.)


    "I thought you were just passing time with the game," he remarked.


    "Polaroid is fun, but the two billion was purely for the year-end shares."


    The stake was minuscule¡ªso small that many had mocked her for wasting money. Even buying Polaroid¡¯s film adaptation rights outright would¡¯ve been cheaper than splurging in-game.


    Polaroid itself had thought they¡¯d found a gullible whale. Given Sheng Quan¡¯s reputation for extravagance, most assumed she just had money to burn.


    Now, the supposedly reckless CEO leaned back on the sofa.


    "Shareholders can transfer equity among themselves without board approval."


    What was the gaming term for this again?


    A backdoor takeover?


    Meanwhile, Polaroid¡¯s major shareholders were plotting their own ambush.


    Sheng Quan¡¯s terms weren¡¯t unacceptable, but as Gu Zhao had said¡ªwhen you¡¯ve had the whole cake to yourself, who wants to share, even under pressure?


    Moreover, these major shareholders were accustomed to throwing their weight around.


    If they could gain the highest returns with the least investment, why wouldn¡¯t they?


    "Sheng Quan only owns one research institute."


    During the meeting, someone was analyzing the situation of Sheng Quan¡¯s research institute.


    To their delight, they discovered that this institute had no classified security level. Typically, in most countries, the security classification would escalate based on the importance of the research.


    In reality, such classifications were mostly symbolic. Research institutes usually had their own security systems, mainly serving as a warning to visitors that the premises housed valuable assets and were off-limits to unauthorized personnel.


    But since this institute lacked a formal security rating, the defenses were likely lax¡ªmaking it easier for them to send someone to steal the holographic technology.


    Yes, rather than sharing profits, the major shareholders of Polar Corporation preferred hiring professionals to pilfer the holographic technology from Sheng Quan.


    It might sound like something out of a corporate thriller, but among major corporations, such tactics¡ªstealing each other¡¯s technology or copying innovations¡ªwere far from rare.


    Simply put, paying someone to steal technology was far cheaper than giving away a share of the profits.


    Of course, for a research institute in China, they¡¯d need to hire Chinese operatives.


    That wasn¡¯t difficult. Just pick the right people and throw enough money at them.


    Even if they got caught, it would only mean a few years in prison¡ªa small price compared to the hefty payout. They probably wouldn¡¯t mind doing the time.


    Soon, Polar¡¯s major shareholders selected their operatives, secured their cooperation with generous payments, and waited for news from China.


    That very night, the assistant received calls from the hired men.


    "What? You¡¯re backing out? Why? We had a deal. You already took the money!"


    "Bro, this isn¡¯t about the money. That place is clearly guarded by the military."


    From a distance, the men pretended to stroll casually in the opposite direction, their legs trembling, hearts pounding.


    Behind them, the research institute¡¯s entrance appeared ordinary, but inside, soldiers in uniform stood guard¡ªarmed with real weapons.


    The assistant was stunned. "The military? China¡¯s military?"


    The men could barely walk straight, their voices shaky with fear.


    "Whose else would it be? We want to make money, but not by going against the state!"


    "We¡¯re returning the money. This job¡¯s off. You¡¯re setting us up! Let¡¯s be clear¡ªwe¡¯re corporate spies, not military spies. There¡¯s a world of difference, you get that?"


    "That¡¯s it. Don¡¯t ever mention knowing us. Even if you do, we¡¯ll deny it."


    They hung up in a hurry, as if fleeing from some monstrous threat.


    The assistant: "..."


    The other executives: "..."


    How was Sheng Quan¡¯s research institute connected to the Chinese military?!


    Wasn¡¯t she just an ordinary, albeit wealthy, businesswoman?!


    As they exchanged bewildered glances, the secretary knocked and entered, whispering to the major shareholder:


    "Sir, we¡¯ve received word. Most of the small and mid-sized shareholders have already transferred their equity."


    "The ?????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????buyer is Sheng Quan."

 Chapter 105

    Sheng Quan quietly acquired shares from numerous small and medium-sized shareholders of Polar Corporation. The unfortunate part was that, apart from those shareholders unwilling to accept the reality of losing control, everyone else was thrilled.


    A quick glance online revealed waves of enthusiastic support from netizens worldwide, cheering like seals clapping:


    ["Hurry up, buy them all out! Then turn Polar into a full holographic company!"]


    ["The progress is too slow¡ªwho¡¯s still resisting? We¡¯re waiting to play holographic games!"]


    ["Ahhhh when will the holographic pods go on sale? I¡¯d sell everything to buy one!"]


    ["Given that VR can¡¯t compete with holographics, and Polar¡¯s highest tech is VR while President Sheng¡¯s initial tech is holographics, the conclusion is: Polar can¡¯t win against President Sheng. Solution: President Sheng, speed up the acquisition!"]


    At first glance, it seemed the entire internet was rallying behind President Sheng, as if the whole world stood firmly in her corner. An outsider might even marvel:


    "Isn¡¯t Sheng Quan just an entertainment company CEO? Why does it feel like the entire globe supports her?"


    If Sheng Quan heard that, she¡¯d probably laugh herself silly.


    The "global" part wasn¡¯t wrong¡ªbut it was just global gamers.


    They weren¡¯t her fans, nor were they Polar¡¯s haters. These people simply wanted to play holographic games.


    With the dust settled, Sheng Quan invited Xu Man, who had just wrapped up a major project and finally had some time off, to join her for a hot spring soak.


    This time, she had genuinely exhausted herself.


    The acquisition of Polar¡¯s shares wasn¡¯t handled by 006¡ªit was entirely Sheng Quan¡¯s own planning and maneuvering.


    On one hand, since her last round of investments in the club members, the system¡¯s reward pool seemed to have grown increasingly generous. While the pool refreshed regularly, landing Polar¡¯s shares required time and task accumulation.


    On the other hand, the cash flow and assets Sheng Quan now held¡ªfar from the days when she could barely afford a pancake¡ªallowed her to secure Polar without relying on 006¡¯s help.


    Though the endeavor drained a significant portion of her liquidity, leveraged countless connections, and demanded immense effort in negotiations with shareholders, the moment the deal closed, it all felt worth it.


    This was nothing like 006 simply handing Polar to her on a silver platter.


    It was like riding a horse on the grasslands. If the host presented you with a cute, docile pony, of course you¡¯d be happy¡ªwho wouldn¡¯t love a free horse?


    But if you tamed a wild, unruly stallion yourself and rode off victorious, that feeling would stay with you for decades.


    "You clearly won¡¯t forget it," Xu Man held up five fingers. "Five times. I¡¯ve only been back three times this year, and you¡¯ve brought it up five times."


    Indeed, ever since President Sheng conquered that adult stallion, her conversations with friends had taken this turn:


    ¡ª"Have you eaten?"


    ¡ª"Oh, you know what? I tamed a horse all by myself. I named it Lettuce."


    After the soak, Xu Man flopped onto the couch. "I¡¯ve been swamped. I finally get a break, and you¡¯re still dangling the big question¡ªwhen¡¯s the holographic game launching? Ahhh, I¡¯m dying of anticipation!"


    Like Sheng Quan, who in their generation wasn¡¯t eager for holographics?


    In fact, anyone who understood the concept of holographics would find it impossible not to yearn for it.


    "It won¡¯t be ready anytime soon," Sheng Quan didn¡¯t beat around the bush. "This isn¡¯t like slapping a lid on a pot and calling it done. There¡¯s still so much to do¡ªmatching, rendering, display, interactive controls, you name it. You get it, right?"


    Xu Man instantly deflated. "Guess we¡¯ll just have to wait."


    Sheng Quan took a sip of lemon water and drawled, "However..."


    "I can pull some strings for you. You might not be able to play games yet, but things like outfit changes are doable."


    Xu Man shot upright. "Do it! Yes, yes, yes¡ªI¡¯m ready!"


    Since they were nearby, Sheng Quan led her straight to Huaxing Building. The elevator doors opened to reveal staff moving equipment. One glance told Xu Man everything:


    "The company expanded again?"


    "Yep. Added some holographic-related departments, plus earlier expansions, so we took over two more floors down. But we¡¯d planned for it, so it wasn¡¯t a hassle."


    They stepped into the private elevator, bodyguards flanking them. Jiang Lu stood at the outermost edge as the doors slid shut. Outside, people waiting for other elevators¡ªthough long accustomed to sharing the building with Sheng Quan¡ªcouldn¡¯t resist murmuring about holographics.


    "I heard Starlight added a bunch of holographic departments. What does the entertainment industry have to do with holographics?"


    "Everything! Didn¡¯t you hear? The premiere of The Ultimate Player used holographic projection for screenings. The demand is insane now."


    "Ugh, I regret not buying a special screening ticket. Now even scalpers can¡¯t help¡ªStarlight requires ID verification for those tickets now."


    "Starlight employees have it made. They get free tickets. Do you think they¡¯ll get first dibs on holographic pods too? Those¡¯ll be limited edition, right? Maybe they can buy internally."


    The others weren¡¯t just envious¡ªthey were practically green-eyed. "If that¡¯s true, I¡¯m applying to Starlight tomorrow."


    "Same. I¡¯d switch majors for that."


    Work or games? Of course, work came first.


    But this was holographics we¡¯re talking about!


    Unaware of the fervent discussions below, Sheng Quan took Xu Man straight to her office, letting her play with the holographic pod while she tackled paperwork.


    All that studying had paid off. The tasks that once seemed overwhelmingly complex now, after years of learning and experience... were still overwhelmingly complex.


    The difference? Sheng Quan could handle them now.


    Some were simpler, though. Right now, she was reviewing the list of employees Starlight had let go this month.


    As the company grew, so did its challenges. Despite Starlight¡¯s excellent benefits, not every employee was diligent, and every year, many were dismissed for negligence.


    After finishing with Starlight¡¯s files, she moved on to Polar¡¯s.


    No Polar employees had been let go yet. Though the shareholder disputes had been chaotic, the staff remained largely unaffected.


    Some had initially worried, but once Sheng Quan took over and the entire company plunged into unprecedented busyness, no one had time to fret about job security.


    With Polar under new ownership, its headquarters couldn¡¯t stay abroad, and its workforce couldn¡¯t remain limited to the original team.


    Sheng Quan spent an hour and a half handling these matters before tossing her pen onto the desk and addressing the two assistants sharing her office:


    "Start the hiring process."


    For most people, Sheng Quan¡¯s acquisition of Polar and its integration with holographic technology was cause for celebration.


    Ask any random person on the street, and they¡¯d cheerfully reply, "It¡¯s fantastic! I thought we¡¯d have to wait fifty or sixty years for holographic games, but now they¡¯re almost here!"


    But for those in the gaming industry, the rise of holographics wasn¡¯t so welcoming.


    They faced the looming threat of "obsolescence" and "unemployment." The debut of the first holographic game signaled that the future market would likely be dominated by this new technology.


    Would professionals trained in "traditional gaming" be left behind?


    They oscillated between excitement for the boundless possibilities of holographic worlds and dread at being rendered obsolete¡ªa near-schizophrenic state of mind.


    ¡ªAnd then came Sheng Quan¡¯s hiring announcement.


    The hiring itself wasn¡¯t the headline. The real bombshell was the positions: [Polar Domestic Headquarters Staff].


    Chinese game industry professionals: !!!


    All their worries and speculations? Gone in an instant.


    Polar was already a top-tier gaming company, and with holographics in its arsenal, its trajectory was undeniably upward.


    Not to mention, Sheng Quan¡¯s reputation for treating top talent exceptionally well was legendary.


    Now or never!


    Sheng Quan had long observed how fiercely competitive people were, whether in entertainment or other fields. She¡¯d originally budgeted two months to fill the roles, but within just one, the headquarters staff was nearly complete.


    Both the headquarters and branches now housed a "Holographics Division."


    Including Starry Entertainment¡¯s Holographics Division, these departments were easily the most enigmatic under Sheng Quan¡¯s umbrella. Employees signed strict NDAs and underwent extensive training.


    They clocked in and out like clockwork, never discussing work after hours. Their salaries were a mystery, but it didn¡¯t take a genius to guess they were substantial.


    The massive holographic stage Starry Entertainment was designing? Entirely helmed by the Holographics Division. Yet after months of collaboration, they somehow managed to avoid post-work gatherings or casual chats with colleagues from other departments.


    Chatty during work hours, mute and distant the moment they stepped out¡ªkeeping an eight-meter radius from others if they could.


    The project lead once grumbled:


    "If the tech were there, I¡¯d swear they¡¯re all robots."


    Gripes aside, no one doubted their competence. The holographic stage was gradually taking shape, and even during test runs¡ªwhen no performers were present¡ªthe creators themselves couldn¡¯t help but feel electrified by their own work.


    China¡¯s stage industry was niche, yet no one questioned President Sheng¡¯s decision to debut large-scale holographics there.


    After the holographic pod news was confirmed¡ªand especially after her lightning-fast corporate maneuver using her minor stake¡ªPresident Sheng was practically deified in some circles.


    "Then again, there¡¯s hardly any domestic competition for stages. Maybe that factored in," mused a worker at the stage¡¯s edge, prompting laughter from colleagues.


    "Since ?????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????when does Starry need to worry about competition?"


    "Exactly. This is the world¡¯s first holographic stage."


    "Just watch¡ªonce it¡¯s up, every idol in the country will be clawing to get on it."


    The confidence might¡¯ve sounded brash, but Starry Entertainment had earned that swagger.


    Still, pioneering holographic stages meant trial and error at every turn. Rigorous testing to prevent on-site mishaps slowed progress to a crawl.


    It wasn¡¯t ready for the public eye yet.


    So Sheng Quan took to Weibo with a teaser:


    [Holographic gaming devices now available.]


    The era of holographic entertainment had officially begun.

 Chapter 106

    News about holographic technology has been dominating major media outlets for quite some time, with discussions covering every angle¡ªfrom its origins and applications to its future development.


    For a while, online comment sections became a hub for experts, who gathered to dissect the topic from various fields, raising one academic question after another with rigorous and cautious attitudes, sparking heated debates.


    [Can someone who hates cilantro eat it in a holographic game by adjusting their avatar''s taste buds? Disclaimer: I have nothing against cilantro¡ªI just want it gone.]


    [I¡¯m a teacher. What are the chances of holding online classes in-game in the future?]


    [In-game couples can kiss and stuff, but in full holographic mode, it feels too real and might traumatize bystanders. My suggestion: make bonded couples automatically commit double suicide instead.]


    Sheng Quan couldn¡¯t help but admire the scholarly dedication of modern netizens.


    After liking each of these posts, she tweeted about the upcoming sale of holographic devices.


    The meme-loving internet dwellers were stunned: This soon?!


    Though Polaris: The Best Player had been released a long time ago, and Polaris itself had even changed ownership, people still subconsciously believed that [holographic tech] wouldn¡¯t become part of ordinary life so quickly¡ªdespite the overwhelming news coverage.


    Shouldn¡¯t the usual process be: first, only the ultra-rich get access, then it trickles down?


    [My bad, I forgot that Chairwoman Sheng has a habit of treating everyone equally!]


    [Remember the robotic dogs? It was a seller¡¯s market¡ªshe could¡¯ve priced them sky-high but slashed the cost herself. She really is the GOAT.]


    [Why are y¡¯all still chatting? Sales start in ten minutes!]


    [Why remind them? Let them talk until they forget to buy. Fewer buyers mean better odds for us!]


    Some were casually chatting, others were poised to pounce the second sales went live, and a few were torn between devices, wishing they could buy them all.


    While most of the questions raised by netizens were useless, one point resonated widely: The Best Player was essentially the biggest ad for holographic gaming.


    Case in point: the moment the official site went live, people instantly navigated to their desired product pages, ready to click "buy" the second sales opened.


    In the movie, holographic devices were divided into three tiers, ranked by technological sophistication and sensory immersion:


    1. Holographic Helmets (lowest tier)


    2. Holographic Simulators (mid-tier)


    3. Holographic Pods (highest tier)


    The prices, just like in the film, scaled accordingly.


    Everyone ?????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????wanted a Holographic Pod.


    But everyone who clicked on it immediately backed out¡ªbecause holy hell, were they expensive!


    Sheng Quan sympathized. She¡¯d love to sell cheaper pods, but from a business standpoint, the current price meant only a select few worldwide could afford them. Lower the cost, and demand would skyrocket.


    From Polaris¡¯s perspective, more pod users meant more in-game revenue. After all, pods simulated all five senses. If you couldn¡¯t eat certain foods in real life, why hold back in-game? Cue the binge-eating.


    And in-game food? That cost gold coins.


    Chairwoman Sheng: Cha-ching. So much money for more films and dramas.


    Alas, pod prices wouldn¡¯t drop anytime soon. Fortunately, there were budget-friendly alternatives.


    Most people flocked to the helmets, priced after extensive internal discussions to balance profitability with accessibility.


    While players held their breaths waiting for sales to begin, Sheng Quan herself was strolling through Polaris¡¯s offline holographic experience store.


    "Why are the silver and black helmets more expensive than the others? Do they have extra features?"


    The staff answered with practiced sweetness: "Functionally identical, but the silver and black finishes are more aesthetically pleasing."


    Right on cue, the moment sales opened, Sheng Quan watched as the silver and black helmets sold out in seconds.


    The standard models followed.


    Sheng Quan: ...Fair enough.


    If she had the money, she¡¯d go for the silver one too.


    (Not that she needed to buy one¡ªshe had a pod. Heh.)


    As sales rolled in, Chairwoman Sheng lounged on a sofa, watching the backend stats skyrocket.


    The affordable helmets unsurprisingly sold out first, followed by the simulators. The pods lagged¡ªnot due to lack of desire, but lack of funds.


    Sheng Quan suddenly turned to He Xi: "Did we clearly explain the simulator¡¯s limitations?"


    He Xi nodded. "Highlighted in bold red on both the product and checkout pages. If users can¡¯t handle it, we accept no-questions-asked returns within ten days."


    Simulators offered better immersion than helmets, hence the higher price (and lower sales).


    But here was the catch: to run or jump in-game, players had to physically run or jump in real life.


    Given the average young adult¡¯s fitness level¡ªwhere even a 800-meter sprint was torture¡ªhigh-intensity in-game actions were a tall order.


    Sipping her milk tea, Sheng Quan eyed the simulator on display and sighed. "I bet even if players can¡¯t handle it, they won¡¯t return it."


    Putting herself in their shoes¡ªif she¡¯d had access to an affordable simulator in her past life, no amount of exhaustion would¡¯ve made her give it up.


    She¡¯d probably have coped by telling herself, At least it¡¯s good exercise.


    "NO RETURNS!!! NEVER!!!"


    In a spacious room, a chubby kid shuffled on a treadmill, his movements sluggish due to his weight. Wearing a linked helmet, he occasionally lifted his arms or legs¡ªbut only barely.


    After a few feeble attempts, the helmet flashed.


    A cheerful voice chimed: "Your heart rate is too high! Please rest before continuing~"


    "ARGH!!!"


    The kid let out a frustrated roar, the sound shaking the room as if he were about to throw a tantrum.


    Yet despite his outburst, he carefully removed the helmet, detached the sensors, and meticulously wiped off the sweat with a tissue before setting everything down gently.


    His parents watched from the side, their hearts aching yet also filled with relief.


    The relief came from seeing their usually irritable child¡ªmade so by his illness¡ªfinally cherish something so dearly. Their hearts ached because, despite his love for the full-dive game, his physical limitations prevented him from enjoying it as freely as other children.


    Due to the unique nature of the full-dive simulation, his body could only endure a maximum of ten minutes before his racing heart would force him to log out.


    "Qiangqiang, your body can''t handle high-intensity activities. How about this¡ªlet¡¯s return it for now, and when the second batch of helmets arrives, Mom and Dad will buy you one, okay?"


    "No, I don¡¯t want to return it."


    To their surprise, their child quickly calmed down this time.


    Their son belonged to a rare group of patients¡ªhis illness made him prone to outbursts, and the medication caused severe weight gain. Despite his young age, he had already endured immense suffering, making emotional stability nearly impossible.


    But now, he looked at his parents and said, "I can¡¯t play for long because I¡¯m overweight. I¡¯ll lose weight, and once I¡¯m thinner, it¡¯ll be fine. Don¡¯t return it."


    His parents were nearly moved to tears. The doctors had long recommended weight loss, but their son had never cooperated. The pain of his condition and his young age made it impossible to persuade him¡ªuntil now.


    Who would have thought that a game could achieve what they couldn¡¯t?


    In another city, an elderly woman sat listlessly in her wheelchair as her daughter fitted a helmet onto her head. One moment, she was skeptical of her daughter¡¯s claims; the next, she found herself standing in a vast, sunlit grassland.


    A graceful antelope approached with elegant steps:


    "Welcome to Polar Full-Dive. This is your beginner¡¯s guide."


    As it unfurled a stack of instructions, the old woman¡¯s avatar shrank and was drawn into the manual.


    "Polar is divided into eight major zones. Here, you¡¯ll find scenery."


    ¡ªThe old woman gasped as she floated upward, soaring over breathtaking landscapes, towering snow-capped mountains, and roaring waterfalls where droplets splashed against her skin. Below, animals grazed peacefully or engaged in thrilling chases.


    The grazing antelope lifted its head¡ªit was the guide from earlier. With a wave of its hoof, it announced: "And combat."


    ¡ªArena after arena materialized, where players of all shapes and sizes clashed with dazzling skills, streaks of color lighting up the sky.


    "There¡¯s the cosmos."


    ¡ªThe sky transformed into a starry expanse, meteors streaking down in a radiant shower, drawing awed gazes from the creatures below.


    "And of course, home life."


    Rows of beautiful villas lined the coast, free from real-world concerns like damp air. As the antelope guided her past, a stone lion at a villa¡¯s entrance playfully tried to leap up and nudge them with its head.


    It was all like a dream¡ªbeautiful, surreal.


    Truthfully, the old woman had never even dreamed something so wondrous. She hadn¡¯t yet adjusted to her in-game body, but in this mesmerizing full-dive world, whether she could move hardly seemed to matter.


    Now she understood why her daughter had insisted she would love it here.


    While the old woman was still immersed in the tutorial, a new character appeared in the transparent "room" designated for logins. The player had set her age to 25. Emerging, she examined her hands, then flexed her limbs.


    "I can move¡ªI can really move! It feels exactly like the real thing. This is incredible!"


    Clearly a full-dive pod user, she was immediately flanked by two helmet-wearing players: "Professor, please don¡¯t wander off. We need to take the other passage."


    "Alright, alright. Where¡¯s the research institute? Let¡¯s hurry. I can¡¯t wait any longer."


    "There¡¯s no need to rush. You have five hours¡ªthat¡¯s plenty of time."


    "Five hours isn¡¯t enough! Put in another request for me. I need more time. Five hours won¡¯t cut it."


    They switched to private mode, unconcerned about eavesdroppers. The professor bargained, "My situation is special. Grant me more time."


    Her companions sighed. "Professor, everyone using a full-dive pod has a ¡®special situation.¡¯"


    "Please be patient. More pods are being manufactured. Once they¡¯re ready, your allotted time will increase."


    In reality, medical staff stood guard beside the transparent full-dive pod, ready to wake its occupant at the first sign of trouble.


    Inside, the professor¡ªa white-haired woman in her eighties or nineties¡ªlay smiling. Where her arms should have been, only the rounded stumps of amputations remained.


    But in the game, she was diving headfirst into an ocean of science.


    Everyone was happy¡ªexcept for one.


    In another room, two avatars emerged. The shorter player turned to the towering, muscular figure beside him and said:


    "You wanted to travel, didn¡¯t you, kid? Come on, let¡¯s head to the highlands for a ¡®study session.¡¯ Guaranteed to be both educational and fun."


    The hulking giant: "..."


    Online, the boy¡¯s parents, overjoyed by his marked emotional improvement, shared their experience in a post:


    [I didn¡¯t understand why the game had a dedicated underage server. But now I get it¡ªSheng Quan has always cared about vulnerable groups. She must have considered how many children, like my son, suffer from illnesses that prevent them from playing freely in the real world. The joy the full-dive world offers them is something reality can¡¯t match.


    In-game, their avatars are healthy and whole. All the kids play together, happy and carefree. My son has finally made friends. Seeing him so eager¡ªworking hard to lose weight, to play¡ªbrings us more happiness than anything.


    Technically, full-dive devices could enforce single-account binding to maximize profits. But the official policy allows three accounts per device, plus a dedicated underage binding channel. Though limited to two hours a day, it¡¯s more than enough for kids.


    The movie Best Player showcased the true meaning of full-dive. At first, I thought it was just cinematic flair. But now I see¡ªSheng Quan used it to express her vision of what full-dive should represent.


    I¡¯m her fan. My mom once asked why someone my age still "fans" over celebrities. But how could I not? She¡¯s not just a star¡ªshe¡¯s a guiding light.]


    The post¡¯s wording wasn¡¯t particularly polished, yet it gained traction rapidly.


    [Sheng Quan showed us in Best Player what she believes full-dive means. And now, in reality, she¡¯s bringing that vision to life.]


    [My 13-year-old cousin lost her legs in a car accident. Now, in the game, she can walk happily again. For that alone, Sheng Quan deserves to be wealthy for life.]


    "I¡¯ve always felt that other luxury items are unnecessary, but when it comes to the holographic helmet, Chairman Sheng Quan has really done his best. Maybe I can¡¯t afford it right now, but with a few years of hard work after graduation, I believe I¡¯ll be able to. I¡¯m really grateful to Chairman Sheng for setting such a price."


    "I heard that holographic technology is still being researched at deeper levels, and what¡¯s presented to us players isn¡¯t even the most advanced tier yet. But I¡¯m already more than satisfied. Being able to ¡®take a trip¡¯ after work or indulge in virtual feasts while dieting in-game is absolutely amazing!"


    No matter the age, when a new innovation brings tangible benefits, people are quick to embrace it.


    While consumers found time to dive into holographic gaming, companies and manufacturers were busy figuring out how to integrate holography into their industries.


    The entertainment industry was hit the hardest.


    Starlight Entertainment had already been emerging as a frontrunner, and now, no one could even hope to compete.


    Even international celebrities and entertainment companies were extending olive branches to Starlight.


    After all, it was clear to everyone that with holographic technology backing them, Starlight could achieve anything in the entertainment world.


    Take the upcoming holographic stage, for example¡ªthough still in preparation, everyone was certain that whoever stood on it would become a global sensation.


    And the most tantalizing part? Like many other Chinese entertainment companies, Starlight excelled in film and music but had one glaring weakness: no idol talent.


    Idols from around the world: !!!


    This was a golden opportunity¡ªnow, it was just a matter of who could seize it.

 Chapter 107

    "That''s right, why didn''t I think of it before? Holographic technology isn¡¯t just for games and movies¡ªwhen it comes to visual impact, nothing beats a stage."


    Holography delivers the most stunning visual effects, and what medium has more expressive power than a stage?


    After the news broke, countless small entertainment company bosses were rubbing their hands with glee, sensing an opportunity for their own firms.


    Starlight Entertainment didn¡¯t have many idols, but these smaller companies did¡ªsome signed over a hundred at a time. Even if they had to rely on sheer numbers, surely one or two would make it. And if not? Well, it wasn¡¯t like the bosses were the ones putting in the hard work anyway.


    Most of these young talents had been signed with the intention of throwing them into various audition shows, hoping one might strike gold. So why not aim for this new avenue?


    It was bizarre yet somehow logical¡ªwhile major players like Starlight Entertainment had shockingly few idol trainees, these obscure little agencies were packed with them.


    Overnight, these small companies went into high gear. Some bosses, embracing the old adage "no pain, no gain," even gritted their teeth and splurged on professional trainers from Country P to whip their young hopefuls into shape.


    The young men and women, thrilled by the sudden investment, threw themselves into training, eager to seize this golden opportunity to shine.


    As everyone knew, China¡¯s variety show scene had become fiercely competitive, with idol survival programs popping up left and right. But unless luck intervened, the peak of a trainee¡¯s career was often the audition period itself.


    China had platforms for acting, for pure singing¡ªbut for idols who wanted to showcase their stage presence? They had to pivot to acting first, build fame there, and then maybe¡ªjust maybe¡ªget a shot at performing.


    This wasn¡¯t because Chinese idols lacked talent. No, the real issue was that the entertainment industry had grown addicted to quick profits.


    Training? Practice? Those took time. In the past, while other countries treated idol survival shows as a gateway to long-term careers, China¡¯s producers usually milked the hype and revenue dry during the show itself.


    After the finale, whether singers or dancers, most were shoved into acting.


    Exceptions like Jin Jiu¡ªwho skyrocketed to fame through a singing competition, backed by a powerhouse like Sheng Quan, and managed to sustain a concert career without ever crossing into acting¡ªwere vanishingly rare.


    As for dance-focused idols? No matter how gifted, they inevitably had to chase fame through acting. And even with fame, stages remained elusive.


    Was it impossible to organize performances? Not really. It¡¯s just that everyone knew faster money lay elsewhere.


    But that was the past.


    "Now, holographic stages are the hottest trend. Random street surveys show 90 out of 100 people are willing to pay to see one. The era of idols is finally here."


    On a public forum, an anonymous post brimmed with exhilaration as the author shared their story:


    "I debuted through a survival show, fought my way to the top with my team, and won. But after victory, life didn¡¯t turn into a fairy tale."


    "No stages. Years of training, nowhere to shine."


    "The company forced us into acting. We weren¡¯t actors¡ªwe were dancers!"


    "We got torn apart for bad performances. I wanted to scream, ¡®I¡¯m a dancer, not an actor!¡¯ But contracts bound us. We had to keep going."


    "When ?????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????I finally saw a chance to perform, they said no¡ªI needed acting fame first."


    "I don¡¯t even dare dream of the holographic stage. I just hope Sheng Quan¡¯s project succeeds, so more stages open up for small-time idols like us."


    The post spilled plenty of identifying details, yet no one bothered unmasking the writer. In China¡¯s entertainment industry, such stories were a dime a dozen.


    Survival show champions vanishing overnight, pushed into acting only to fade without a trace¡ªit was all too common.


    A saying once went: "In this industry, whether you sing or dance, you¡¯ll end up an actor."


    That¡¯s why Sheng Quan¡¯s social media was perpetually flooded with fawning praise. She never checked her DMs, but they were likely even more packed with flattery from aspiring artists.


    Their admiration wasn¡¯t for the actors she¡¯d made famous¡ªit was for singers like Jin Jiu, whom she¡¯d elevated without forcing them into acting. Starlight¡¯s singers stayed singers, contributing to soundtracks, holding concerts.


    It sounded like the norm, but in China¡¯s entertainment world, it was anything but.


    Already a titan in the industry, Starlight¡¯s latest venture sent a deluge of unsolicited applications flooding in before any official announcement.


    The company buzzed with activity. Gu Zhao, for once, didn¡¯t cut into his meal times. These days, no matter how busy, he made sure to eat, sleep, and live well.


    The old urgency¡ªlike being perpetually chased by a pack of dogs¡ªhad faded over the years without him even noticing.


    As he told Sheng Quan: "Maybe this is what they call ¡®a sense of security.¡¯"


    Sheng Quan: "..."


    Every time Gu Zhao delivered such lines in his usual detached, almost robotic tone, his striking features and pale gray eyes only amplified the uncanny vibe.


    But lately, she couldn¡¯t shake the feeling he¡¯d grown more... human.


    Not in the social niceties sense¡ªjust less rigid.


    The old Gu Zhao would¡¯ve insisted on crisp suits, immaculately pressed, top button fastened regardless of weather or AC. Even meals wouldn¡¯t loosen his collar.


    Not that there was anything wrong with that¡ªmany professionals dressed the part.


    Except Gu Zhao worked 24/7, minus eating and sleeping.


    Now? He wore a simple white shirt, two buttons undone at the throat.


    Sheng Quan noted, without much surprise, that his collarbones were rather nice. Busy as he was, he never skipped workouts¡ªlean yet toned, the kind that looked good in or out of clothes.


    The usually aloof-looking CEO Gu Zhao had his sleeves slightly rolled up today, revealing his well-defined wrists adorned with a new watch.


    Hmm, busy as Gu Zhao was, his taste remained impeccable¡ªthe watch complemented his wrist perfectly.


    Noticing Sheng Quan¡¯s gaze lingering on his watch, he pulled open a drawer, took out a box, and handed it to her: "I got one for you too."


    "Thanks, I was just about to ask if this was the latest model."


    Sheng Quan didn¡¯t hold back¡ªafter all, Gu Zhao¡¯s income was nothing to scoff at. Ever since he gifted her that little plant, and perhaps because Lane had started contacting him frequently afterward, the gifts Gu Zhao sent had shifted to these stylish yet practical items.


    Of course, Chairman Sheng wouldn¡¯t let her subordinates lose out either. She often reciprocated with gifts for Gu Zhao and the team. Over time, this exchange had become second nature.


    She opened the box without hesitation, slipped on the elegant watch, admired it for a few seconds, and then got down to business:


    "So, has the company received the expected number of self-recommendations?"


    "We¡¯ve far exceeded it."


    At the mention of work, Gu Zhao immediately switched into professional mode, his previously softened expression turning serious again as he handed Sheng Quan the prepared documents.


    "Take a look."


    "The expenses for the holographic stage have also surpassed initial projections. I¡¯ve approved additional funding."


    Sheng Quan nodded. "Go ahead. This stage is set to debut worldwide¡ªit¡¯s worth every penny."


    Starlight Entertainment was bustling like never before, and it wasn¡¯t just about grooming a few idols.


    This marked the first application of holographic technology in the entertainment industry¡¯s stage performances. Starlight might not have idols yet, and China¡¯s idol industry was still less developed compared to other countries, but Sheng Quan had no intention of limiting their ambitions to the domestic market.


    She had honed her document-reviewing skills¡ªnot the fastest, but thorough. After finishing, she signed her name with satisfaction and handed the papers back.


    "Now, it¡¯s all about building momentum."


    In truth, the hype had already begun. Even before the stage¡¯s debut, major media outlets were touting it as "the largest and most eye-catching stage in China."


    "But we¡¯re not aiming for ¡®most eye-catching in China¡¯¡ªwe want it to be the most eye-catching in the world."


    "This time, the initiative is in our hands from the start. It¡¯s a golden opportunity."


    With Gu Zhao, Sheng Quan didn¡¯t need to hide anything.


    His ambition to conquer the world was no less than hers.


    Sure enough, at these words, Gu Zhao seemed to perk up, his striking eyes gleaming faintly. "Understood."


    Starlight Entertainment¡¯s status in China was already a far cry from what it had been.


    Over the years, the company had adhered to a strategy of "rapid expansion followed by strategic consolidation." Almost every year, their office space grew by another two floors.


    At first glance, the pace might not seem breakneck, but considering Starlight had risen from obscurity to become a top-tier entertainment powerhouse in China in just four years, their growth was nothing short of staggering.


    During those four years, alongside established stars like Jiang Zhen and Hua Qing, Starlight had continuously bolstered its mid-tier talent while nurturing new artists and producing a steady stream of high-quality films and shows.


    Their willingness to invest heavily upfront and give artists time to grow had paid off. While only two artists had reached Jiang Zhen¡¯s level of stardom in that period, for an entertainment company, that was more than enough.


    Other major companies, no matter how long they¡¯d stood, always relied on the same handful of pillars.


    Both Sheng Quan and Gu Zhao knew Starlight¡¯s domestic standing was now unshakable. The next step was international recognition.


    That wouldn¡¯t come quickly. Despite countless hit productions over four years, Starlight still lacked significant global fame. Most international audiences knew of the company only through their favorite artists signed under it.


    But compared to foreign entertainment giants that had stood for decades, with their legions of superstars and vast industry connections, how could Starlight possibly catch up in just four years?


    "Still, we¡¯re young," Sheng Quan joked with Gu Zhao. "We¡¯ve got plenty of time to outlast them. So, take care of your health¡ªas long as we don¡¯t die young, we¡¯ll definitely win."


    Whether Gu Zhao realized she was joking or not, the CEO nodded earnestly, as if determined to follow her words to the letter.


    Truth be told, if Starlight really played the long game, they might just outlast the world¡¯s top entertainment giants.


    But then, holographic technology had emerged.


    If they didn¡¯t seize this chance to make a bold leap forward, Sheng Quan would feel she¡¯d failed Ning Zhou.


    "Within three months, let¡¯s get this holographic stage in front of the world."


    It wasn¡¯t an impossible task.


    Though China¡¯s entertainment industry had been underdeveloped just a few years ago, never taken seriously by global players, things had changed.


    First, Starlight had made waves in recent years. Second, their holographic technology was world-exclusive.


    No matter which country¡¯s entertainment industry, whether they had a stage culture or not, none would pass up the chance to be part of the first-ever holographic stage.


    Especially since Sheng Quan planned to recreate the magic, framing this stage as a global spectacle.


    No¡ªnot framing it. It would be a global spectacle.


    "A holographic stage?"


    In P Country, members of a popular girl group huddled together as their manager analyzed the upcoming stage event planned by China¡¯s Starlight Entertainment.


    "I know Starlight Entertainment¡ªit¡¯s one of China¡¯s top companies. Jin Jiu is signed under them."


    "Isn¡¯t the CEO named Sheng Quan? She¡¯s famously wealthy."


    The members shared what they knew.


    "This is the world¡¯s first large-scale holographic stage, and the first to be broadcast live entirely within the Polar Edge holographic game. Do you understand what that means?"


    The manager pointed to a chart on the screen. "Forget the real-world audience¡ªthis is the number of Polar Edge players."


    A staggering figure appeared, leaving the members wide-eyed in shock.


    Sheng Quan¡¯s decision not to create a new game but to leverage Polar Edge¡¯s existing user base was proving its worth.


    Building a massive player base for a new game took time. Even if the game were phenomenal, it would need years to mature.


    But Polar Edge was different. Even if many still couldn¡¯t afford holographic helmets, they wouldn¡¯t quit¡ªthey¡¯d keep playing while saving up for one.


    Generally speaking, no matter how many players a game has, the most the developers can do is run ads or encourage in-game purchases. But now, Polarland has become a full-immersion virtual reality game.


    What players see in the game is almost indistinguishable from reality, and Sheng Quan, who controls the entire game, essentially holds access to a massive global audience.


    All she needs to do is use VR technology to livestream the stage performances into the game, and a huge number of players¡ªeven if they didn¡¯t buy tickets in the real world¡ªcan still enjoy the show up close by purchasing in-game tickets.


    At first, very few people realized this potential. But after Sheng Quan announced that the performances would be livestreamed in-game, the already wildly popular VR stage¡ªboosted by Starlight Entertainment¡¯s aggressive promotions¡ªinstantly became the center of attention.


    This, of course, included the members of the P-country girl group.


    Who would turn down an audience?


    Especially one this massive!


    "Can we participate?"


    The girl group members didn¡¯t hesitate for a second, looking at their manager with a mix of excitement and nervousness.


    After all, this was a stage in China. Crossing borders would mean dealing with so many procedures¡ªwould their company even agree?


    The manager, equally thrilled by the sheer scale of the potential audience, flushed with excitement. "Of course you can! Why else would I be here?"


    "This is an opportunity I fought hard to get for you. Starlight Entertainment isn¡¯t just accepting anyone¡ªfor our P-country, there are only three spots." She didn¡¯t forget to boast about her efforts. "Do you know how much I struggled to secure this? This isn¡¯t just a stage in China anymore¡ªit¡¯s a platform to perform for the entire world."


    "You don¡¯t even need to win. Just making it into the selection, just getting into Polarland¡¯s livestream, will be enough to skyrocket your fame!"


    No one disagreed with that assessment.


    Full immersion VR, a massive audience¡ªthis was the stage every idol dreamed of.


    Not just in P-country, where idol groups were abundant, but even in countries with fewer idols, no one wanted to miss this chance.


    "We won¡¯t let the company down!"


    As the girl group geared up for the challenge, countries everywhere began their own fierce competition for a spot.


    Overnight, the VR stage became the hottest topic, with everyone scrambling for a piece of the action.


    Starlight Entertainment, however, faced a dilemma.


    For international participants, allocating spots was straightforward¡ªit would bring in plenty of resources in return.


    But domestically... who should they choose?

 Chapter 108

    It¡¯s no exaggeration to say that idols across the nation are all competing for this opportunity.


    In China, the so-called "lack of stages" doesn¡¯t just refer to literal performance platforms, but more so to the scarcity of chances for idols to showcase their singing and dancing abilities.


    Given the realities of the industry in China, unless they gain fleeting fame through talent shows, idols rarely get a real shot at success.


    And perhaps it¡¯s a cultural quirk¡ªeverything in China seems to prioritize speed over quality¡ªeven when idols do get their moment in the spotlight, they¡¯re usually replaced within two years at most.


    But now, stages and holographic technology have merged.


    This isn¡¯t just about holographic performances¡ªit means that with this technology, Starlight Entertainment can effortlessly create countless stages and draw massive audiences whenever they want.


    This massive investment by Starlight Entertainment has given everyone a glimpse of a bright future. While international groups might see this as a chance for glory, for Chinese idol groups, it¡¯s nothing short of a lifeline.


    "It¡¯s really come down to a matter of survival."


    Sheng Quan was reviewing stacks of documents.


    In China, idols who rely on stage performances have always had low visibility. Even Sheng Quan, a seasoned fan with years of experience, had paid little attention to this scene in her past life due to the lack of exposure.


    Without stages to perform on, audiences had no way to discover these idols¡ªlet alone become fans.


    Though it had been four years since she arrived in this world, Sheng Quan¡¯s perspective, knowledge, and demeanor had all undergone significant refinement. After all, wealth does wonders for one¡¯s aura.


    As it turns out, money really can keep time from leaving its mark.


    Now, aside from the composed air of someone long accustomed to power, Sheng Quan looked just as youthful as when she first arrived¡ªif not even more radiant.


    Whether it was due to her constant mental rehearsals or another one of her "golden fingers," her memories of the original novel remained crystal clear.


    But after four years, she had already mined nearly all the business-related information from the book. Since it was primarily an entertainment-focused novel, most of the plot revolved around domestic affairs, with barely any mention of idols.


    Yet this time, System 006 had allocated a staggering two billion in mission funds. President Sheng simply couldn¡¯t pass it up.


    [Are you sure it¡¯s two billion? In cash?]


    President Sheng even wondered if 006 had glitched. After all, the billions spent on acquiring the esports club had been strictly earmarked for fixed assets.


    A sum restricted to a single asset versus one that could be freely allocated¡ªas long as it was spent on the mission target¡ªthe difference in value was obvious.


    006 sounded almost smug: [My money-making skills are top-tier.]


    Sheng Quan¡¯s personal wealth had snowballed over time, and 006, with its relentless focus on multiplying funds, was no exception.


    To put it bluntly, while Sheng Quan might not be the richest person in China¡ªat best, she was the wealthiest in the entertainment industry¡ª006¡¯s funds could easily place it among the world¡¯s financial elite if tallied.


    But the system seemed blissfully unaware of its own extravagance, cheerfully reminding her: [Host, do your best on the mission! All my money is yours!]


    Sheng Quan¡¯s motivation soared: [I will!]


    [I was originally planning to budget carefully for the holographic stage investment, but now? No need.]


    Though she was already wealthy, who would ever complain about more money? Besides, building an empire was addictive. Every time her company expanded or her ventures turned massive profits, the sense of accomplishment dwarfed even the thrill of admiring a thousand beautiful faces.


    The ultimate joy in life? Making money while surrounded by gorgeous men and women.


    Especially when their styling, outfits, and screen time were all under her control. Bliss.


    Sheng Quan took a sip of juice, her gaze lingering on a high-definition image on her screen:


    "Tu Zhu..."


    Wu Ying was the chief director of the holographic stage project.


    At just twenty-eight, a graduate of a prestigious university, she was unusually young for such a high-ranking position.


    But at Starlight, she was already overseeing a project with a budget in the hundreds of millions. If this venture succeeded, Wu Ying would likely be promoted to vice president before hitting thirty.


    Even by the standards of her alma mater, her rapid rise at a major company like Starlight Entertainment was impressive enough to make her a role model for juniors.


    Naturally, Wu Ying cherished her hard-earned position. Since the holographic stage project was greenlit, she had been hands-on with every detail, personally signing off on every major decision.


    She ?????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????had even postponed her vacation, planning to combine it with her year-end leave¡ªproof of her total dedication to work.


    Talent plus effort¡ªthat was the norm among Starlight¡¯s executives. Most had climbed the ranks through sheer grit, whether young or seasoned, and their salaries had doubled (or more) as a result.


    Wu Ying¡¯s earnings were particularly staggering for her age, leaving her peers in the dust. When hard work paid off so visibly, she couldn¡¯t help but pour even more into it.


    Most people don¡¯t find joy in their jobs, but Wu Ying was an exception. Just thinking about her title and paycheck was enough to make her float with happiness.


    Lately, though, the ever-optimistic Director Wu had begun to dim.


    "Running out of funds again?"


    The holographic stage wasn¡¯t just about building a single platform¡ªit was a global venture. Starlight planned to establish venues worldwide, with the top three contestants from domestic competitions going on international tours.


    True to Sheng Quan¡¯s "thorough" approach, these venues were meant for long-term use, which meant even more expenses.


    And since this was a global spectacle, every element¡ªfrom personnel to equipment¡ªhad to be top-tier. The company wasn¡¯t about to splurge only to deliver a shoddy production.


    The scale was so vast that even with Wu Ying stretching every penny, she kept having to request additional funding.


    Caught between the project¡¯s demands for perfection and the company¡¯s tightening budget, Wu Ying was stuck in a headache-inducing tug-of-war.


    She knew Starlight¡¯s cash flow wasn¡¯t limitless¡ªaside from this project, the company was bankrolling two big-budget films simultaneously.


    The situation was clear: they¡¯d expanded too far, too fast, and now the money was running short.


    That day, Wu Ying was once again mentally crunching numbers between bites of lunch, each calculation making her feel more suffocated.


    Not from choking¡ªjust sheer frustration.


    Suddenly, a notification dinged, followed by a flurry of incessant pings from the group chat.


    Her first thought was that something had gone wrong. She quickly pulled out her phone, only to see her colleagues erupting in celebration.


    "Two billion?!"


    "Is this for real?!"


    "Holy crap, am I dreaming?!"


    "The director is a legend! I was just hoping for ten million and calling it a day!"


    Two billion?!


    Wu Ying hurriedly checked her private messages. Sure enough, there was a message from the company. The moment she opened it, five bold characters glared back at her:


    Upper limit: two billion!!


    Wu Ying: "..."


    At that moment, it felt like she could finally breathe again.


    Visions of promotions, raises, becoming a company VP, and ascending to the peak of her career flashed before her eyes.


    She clutched her phone tightly, never imagining the company would approve such an astronomical budget in one go.


    This was easily one of the highest-funded projects in the company¡¯s history.


    She remembered the dilemma she faced when submitting her resume¡ªtorn between Starlight Entertainment and another industry giant.


    In the end, it was her senior, already working at Starlight, who convinced her:


    "Starlight is an entertainment company. Sure, global recognition won¡¯t come easy, but the best part is¡ªyou get out what you put in. A single ounce of effort yields an ounce of reward, a hundred ounces a hundredfold."


    "When problems arise, the company steps in. They don¡¯t dump everything onto the employees. That alone makes me want to stay at Starlight for life."


    Back then, Wu Ying thought her senior was exaggerating. But now? She couldn¡¯t be more grateful she¡¯d listened and joined Starlight.


    Though, she disagreed on one point.


    Global recognition... Why couldn¡¯t Starlight achieve that?


    In a small entertainment agency, a young man sat expressionlessly scrolling through the barrage of comments on his phone.


    He couldn¡¯t have been older than seventeen or eighteen, with features so finely crafted they could easily top the charts in an industry obsessed with looks.


    Even just sitting there, he¡¯d attract hordes of admirers based on his face alone.


    Of course, the hate was just as plentiful.


    "Tu Zhu, why are you reading comments again? I told you not to!"


    His manager snatched the phone away, frowning at the flood of vitriol on the screen. "Every celebrity has haters. If you obsess over this, how will you ever make it?"


    Even without his phone, the young man¡¯s face remained blank. "They¡¯re not wrong. My acting is terrible. I ruin every role. It¡¯s normal for them to criticize me."


    The manager waved it off. "So what if your acting¡¯s bad? With a face like yours, you¡¯ll still have armies of fans."


    "We¡¯re in the business of selling looks."


    Tu Zhu¡¯s dark, lifeless eyes met his. "I don¡¯t like myself."


    The manager sighed. Sometimes, you just had to admit¡ªtalent wasn¡¯t universal. Tu Zhu had debuted through a survival show, outshining every competitor in singing and dancing.


    But acting? No matter how hard he trained, he couldn¡¯t improve. His stage presence was god-tier, yet the moment cameras rolled, he turned into a wooden doll.


    That was the entertainment industry for you. A pretty face guaranteed fans, and Tu Zhu had plenty¡ªdespite having no notable works. A shameless person would¡¯ve reveled in it. But Tu Zhu? It only made him miserable.


    His acting was so bad that even before the haters piled on, he¡¯d already condemned himself. No matter how many acting classes he took, progress was nonexistent. It was like he was born without the acting gene¡ªhis performances were irredeemably awful.


    The manager had given up, urging Tu Zhu to just take the money and run. But day by day, Tu Zhu grew quieter, more sleepless.


    "I¡¯ve figured it out. I¡¯m not an actor. I want to be on stage."


    The sudden declaration caught the manager off guard. "What stage? How long do you think an idol¡¯s career lasts? Two years tops before you¡¯re washed up."


    "Don¡¯t stress about acting. Your schedule¡¯s packed¡ªseven or eight projects this year. You¡¯ll improve. And even if you don¡¯t, the fans won¡¯t care."


    Tu Zhu had expected this response.


    His pitch-black eyes bore into the manager. "You know where my talent lies. On stage."


    "Before, you said there were no stages in China. Now Starlight Entertainment has holographic performances. I want in."


    He spoke calmly. At just eighteen, his delicate features still held traces of youth, but his eyes were devoid of light.


    The manager remembered how different he used to be.


    Before signing with the company, those beautiful eyes had burned with passion. He loved singing, loved dancing, lively as a deer leaping through the woods.


    But he¡¯d signed too young. Once the company had him, it was like throwing him into a pit of fire.


    At first, Tu Zhu had resisted. But trapped by the weight of his contract and the company¡¯s relentless pressure¡ªboth carrot and stick¡ªhe¡¯d eventually surrendered.


    Years passed without a single stage performance.


    The company treated him as nothing more than a cash cow. While they profited massively, Tu Zhu amassed hordes of anti-fans¡ª"the talentless hack clinging to the acting industry."


    It wasn¡¯t an exaggeration to say even A-list actors didn¡¯t have as many haters. His social media was a cesspool of curses and vitriol daily.


    The worst part? Tu Zhu believed every word. The confidence and joy he once had were long gone, replaced by crushing self-loathing.


    The manager studied him. Tu Zhu was stunning¡ªthe kind of looks people called "heaven-sent." Not in an androgynous way, but breathtakingly, heart-stoppingly beautiful.


    That face had won him legions of fans... and just as many haters.


    Yet now, that radiant face was shrouded in gloom. A person¡¯s aura changed their appearance. Even with the same features, Tu Zhu no longer had that jaw-dropping allure.


    His fanbase was hemorrhaging because of it. And every loss only piled more weight onto his already broken spirit.


    The manager knew¡ªTu Zhu was crumbling.


    And now, he was trying to save himself.


    Under that faint glimmer of hope in Tu Zhu¡¯s gaze, the manager forced himself to harden his heart. He looked away, unable to face the fallen star.


    "No. The company¡¯s already taken payment for your roles."


    There was another reason, unspoken: the company feared Tu Zhu would leave if he regained his fame. Right now, despite the relentless hate, he was still trapped, still profitable.


    But if he truly spread his wings? What would they have left to control him?


    The light in Tu Zhu¡¯s eyes dimmed to nothing.


    "I want to go."


    He whispered softly, "I really want to go."


    His pleading gaze made the agent uneasy. When the agent¡¯s eyes skimmed over Tu Zhu¡¯s wrists, hidden beneath long sleeves, they flinched away as if shocked.


    He knew¡ªbeneath those sleeves lay scars, one after another.


    Tu Zhu was drowning.


    And yet, he had refused the plea for help.


    The agent closed his eyes briefly, forcing himself to turn away. "I''m leaving. I¡¯ll keep your phone for now. Come get it when you¡¯ve calmed down."


    After the agent left, Tu Zhu walked to the computer and sat there blankly for a long time. Half an hour later, he cautiously glanced back to ensure no one was at the door before finally turning on the computer.


    In the "President Sheng¡¯s Mighty Legacy of Countless Creations" forum, a new post appeared:


    "Does President Sheng really only sign people based on talent? What if someone can sing and dance? I¡¯m a really good dancer."

 Chapter 109

    Whether it''s forums, discussion boards, fan communities, or fan groups, the level of activity is usually tied to how many people are involved.


    Clearly, Sheng Quan''s fanbase is still going strong.


    Within just two minutes, several replies had already appeared under the post.


    ¡¾I can dance too¡ªpick me!¡¿


    ¡¾Same thought as OP. Though I¡¯m no expert, I did win second place in the first-grade dance competition at Qushui Elementary.¡¿


    ¡¾Oh, so dancing makes you special? My talent is spinning like a top while stepping on my own feet to fan Sheng Quan with the breeze. OP, you dare compete with me?¡¿


    ¡¾Singing and dancing are fine, but OP, you¡¯ve got way too much competition.¡¿


    ¡¾Artists from all over the country are lining up for a chance at Sheng Quan¡¯s attention. Someone, get this person a queue number!¡¿


    ¡¾Here you go! OP, your number is 888888!!!¡¿


    The gloom in Tu Zhu¡¯s eyes deepened.


    The replies kept pouring in. Though most were just playful banter, they also revealed something deeper¡ªSheng Quan¡¯s legendary success stories had inspired countless people to chase after her, each hoping to be the next big discovery.


    Yan Hui, Hua Qing, Yu Hongdou, Jin Jiu, Jiang Zhen, even the now-world-famous director Xu Man¡ªall had been unearthed by Sheng Quan¡¯s keen eye.


    With so many success stories, it was no surprise that waves of hopefuls kept coming, desperate to replicate their achievements.


    And Tu Zhu, the one who had posted this thread, was just one among thousands.


    No¡ªworse than that.


    Others might still have a shot, but he had already lost his last chance.


    Tu Zhu sat frozen in front of his computer, watching reply after reply pile up. His expression darkened, but then, a flicker of resolve flashed across his face.


    He logged into his social media, found a contact, and sent a message:


    One Bamboo: I want to ask about terminating my contract with the company.


    Justice-Wang-Lawyer: Zhu, finally coming to your senses? You should¡¯ve ditched that trash company ages ago. But breaking a contract comes at a cost¡ªhow much are you willing to sacrifice? Give me a number so I know what we¡¯re working with.


    One Bamboo: Everything.


    Even though he knew full well that giving up everything might still not earn him this opportunity¡ªthat Sheng Quan might never even know he existed¡ªhe was willing to bet it all.


    "Queue number 880,000? They really know how to exaggerate."


    Sipping her milk tea, Sheng Quan scrolled through the posts in the "All Hail Sheng Quan, Endless Fan Creations" forum, while a sleek mechanical dog sat vigilantly by her side.


    The backdrop was a garden so meticulously maintained it could pass for a luxury resort, complete with a fountain spraying elegant arcs of water and staff tending to the greenery in the distance.


    From behind her, a tall, slender young man with black hair and striking blue eyes approached, carrying a tray of afternoon desserts. He set the plate¡ªadorned with tempting cherries¡ªgently beside Sheng Quan¡¯s right hand, along with a tablet displaying visitor profiles.


    Evan spoke respectfully, "Your guest has arrived."


    As Sheng Quan skimmed the visitor¡¯s profile against the soothing sounds of the fountain, she couldn¡¯t shake the odd feeling that she was some kind of villainous tycoon from a popcorn movie¡ªthe kind who lived in a lavish mansion, commanded a loyal butler, and orchestrated corporate takeovers from her garden throne with a mere flick of her wrist.


    Except instead of sinister schemes, her computer was filled with fan forums and gossip threads.


    A small fraction of her time was spent scouting for talent through these channels.


    Most of it, though?


    ¡ªShe was here for the drama, the hype, the recommendations, and the ship wars.


    What else was a busy CEO like her supposed to do? These days, Sheng Quan¡¯s schedule was packed back-to-back with meetings, leaving her only scattered moments to kill on forums.


    And why so many visitors?


    ¡ª"Sheng Quan, this is my nephew, Yang Yang. Come, Yang Yang, greet Sheng Quan properly."


    A certain Manager Gu, whose company had a partnership with Starlight Entertainment, cheerfully pushed his nephew forward.


    The young man, admittedly quite handsome, bowed deeply.


    "Hello, Sheng Quan."


    Sheng Quan smiled. "You¡¯ve got a nice look."


    The tall actor flushed with flattered surprise, even though Sheng Quan was only a few years older and spoke with the casual authority of an elder.


    This was the Sheng Quan of Starlight Entertainment. To say Starlight dominated the entertainment industry would be an exaggeration¡ªbut not by much.


    And the most astonishing part? Sheng Quan held absolute authority over Starlight. A single word from her could turn even an ant on the sidewalk into a superstar overnight.


    Not to mention, she currently held the reins of a project the entire world was watching: The Holographic Stage.


    Naturally, every visitor lining up at her door shared the same goal¡ªto secure even a sliver of that lucrative pie.


    Sheng Quan didn¡¯t mind.


    No matter how mythic Starlight¡¯s status in the industry, this was their first time organizing a stage production. She needed to ensure its success was flawless.


    Every industry heavyweight who climbed aboard was another layer of security. They¡¯d band together like mismatched steel plates on a ship, weathering any storm to protect their shared interests.


    Of course, the "size" of those plates determined whether they¡¯d be holding the ship together or just cheering from the shore. Manager Gu, today¡¯s visitor, fell squarely into the latter category.


    He knew it too, which was why he¡¯d abandoned any hope of a stake in the project and instead tried to slot his nephew onto the stage.


    Even a single appearance in such a massive production would be a career-defining opportunity.


    Sheng Quan, of course... turned him down.


    The guy was undeniably good-looking, but his skills were all in acting¡ªhis singing was mediocre, his dancing nonexistent. Sending someone with no stage talent would only burden Wu Ying, the project¡¯s director.


    Audiences wanted to see skilled performers compete, not a mascot awkwardly flailing through "I may not sing or dance, but my heart¡¯s in the right place."


    Having fielded countless similar requests since announcing The Holographic Stage, Sheng Quan handled it smoothly:


    "The auditions are fully livestreamed. If Yang Yang can¡¯t sing or dance, it¡¯s just not going to work."


    Manager Gu had expected this. But what could he do? This was his brother¡¯s son. If he didn¡¯t at least try, his parents would never let him hear the end of it.


    Sheng Quan¡¯s reputation for refusing to play favorites was ironclad. She had money, power, and zero tolerance for nepotism¡ªeven the biggest agencies in the industry wouldn¡¯t sway her.


    Since he¡¯d braced for rejection, the disappointment wasn¡¯t crushing.


    But then, the young woman across from him¡ªher demeanor radiating effortless confidence¡ªadded:


    "How about this? We¡¯ve got a drama in pre-production, The Boastful Heart. Yang Yang¡¯s look fits one of the roles. Would he like to audition?"


    "Of course, whether Yang Yang can pass the audition depends entirely on his own abilities."


    Manager Gu immediately beamed with joy. The Heart of Glory was a major IP adaptation, and given Starry Brilliance''s track record, it was bound to be a massive hit upon release.


    His nephew couldn¡¯t hide his excitement either.


    With limited roles available, Starry Brilliance hadn¡¯t opened auditions to the public, opting instead for internal selections. It was clear that if he nailed this audition, his career would soar to new heights.


    Manager Gu readily agreed, "Thank you, Chairman Sheng. Rest assured, my nephew may not excel in everything, but his acting skills are top-notch."


    Though they hadn¡¯t secured a spot for his nephew as a stage trainee, both Manager Gu and his nephew left in high spirits.


    "I¡¯ve gotten you this opportunity¡ªdo you know how many people are fighting tooth and nail for a role in a Starry Brilliance production?"


    After a moment¡¯s thought, Manager Gu quickly added a warning,


    "You¡¯d better give it your all during the audition. The directors and screenwriters under Chairman Sheng are notoriously strict. If you mess up, they won¡¯t hesitate to reject you."


    His nephew, brimming with enthusiasm, replied, "Uncle, don¡¯t worry. I know how important this is. I¡¯ll give it my best shot and land this role."


    "Uncle, I had no idea you even knew Chairman Sheng! When you said you were bringing me here, I was stunned. That¡¯s Chairman Sheng we¡¯re talking about!"


    Flattered by his nephew¡¯s admiration, Manager Gu felt a surge of pride. While he had collaborated with Starry Brilliance in the past and exchanged business cards with Sheng Quan, they weren¡¯t exactly close.


    This visit had only happened because his elder brother had begged him to try. He¡¯d gone in expecting failure, but to his surprise, things had turned out better than expected.


    Now he could report back to the family. If his nephew passed the audition, it would be his own merit. If he failed, well, that would be on him¡ªno blame could fall on Manager Gu.


    Perfect!


    He had to admit, Sheng Quan might be young, but she handled things with remarkable finesse.


    Anyone who¡¯d earned the title of "Manager" in this industry wasn¡¯t a fool. Since Sheng Quan had shown him such courtesy, he naturally had to return the favor.


    As soon as he got into the car, Manager Gu called his assistant. "Isn¡¯t Starry Brilliance currently collaborating with us? Tell Anzhen we can loosen the terms a bit further."


    Building connections was all about give and take. With Starry Brilliance riding high, he wasn¡¯t about to miss this chance to strengthen ties.


    Sheng Quan had no idea about this development, though she could guess. After all, she¡¯d been "entertaining all sorts of visitors" lately.


    But whether they were powerful allies or minor players like Manager Gu who could only offer small favors, her stance remained firm: collaboration was fine, but no backdoor placements on the stage.


    No amount of influence or fame could sway her.


    This talent show was exactly that¡ªa competition where contestants had to rely on their own skills to fight their way to the top, with no behind-the-scenes manipulation.


    It was a grand spectacle, and Sheng Quan intended to make it the best it could be.


    Even for Starry Brilliance, constructing a holographic stage was a monumental undertaking.


    She wasn¡¯t the only one busy¡ªevery department at Starry Brilliance was working overtime. Wu Ying, the project lead, had visibly lost weight from the stress.


    Gu Zhao barely left his desk except when negotiating with other companies.


    Well, to be fair, he¡¯d never left his desk much before either, as if he planned to work in that office until the end of time.


    With her team pushing so hard, Sheng Quan couldn¡¯t afford to slack off either.


    With that thought, she took another sip of tea and turned her attention back to Tu Zhu¡¯s profile on her screen.


    Or rather, the Tu Zhu of this moment.


    It had been several years since she transmigrated into this world. By now, she¡¯d met most of the characters who¡¯d been prominently featured in the original novel. The book had focused mainly on actors and singers, with little mention of idols.


    It was only because Sheng Quan had memorized every word of Starry Brilliance that she¡¯d even noticed Tu Zhu¡¯s existence.


    Tu Zhu¡¯s fate in the book was suicide, though the text heavily implied he¡¯d actually been murdered.


    Many characters in Starry Brilliance had died by suicide. While Sheng Quan had once joined other readers in cursing the "heartless author" for crafting such tragic endings, they¡¯d all had to admit that, given the circumstances, those characters¡¯ choices made sense.


    The author had given them hearts full of passion and dreams to chase, composing their stories like beautiful melodies.


    Honestly, in her past life, Sheng Quan had never been one to idolize celebrities¡ªreal people were too unpredictable.


    What she¡¯d loved about the book was knowing these were just fictional characters, artists who would never disappoint their fans.


    Yet it was precisely because of this that the characters¡¯ quiet, despairing ends felt so painfully believable. No one could say, "This plot makes no sense."


    Because the author had gifted these characters with admirable qualities but placed them in a world that crushed their spirits.


    When hard work was met with "This role goes to so-and-so¡¯s relative," when talent was dismissed with "Your name isn¡¯t big enough," when potential was wasted because "If you can¡¯t make money for the company 24/7, you¡¯re useless"¡ªmost people would eventually compromise. But not these characters.


    They were born to shine, yet trapped in a world devoid of light. Their fates were sealed.


    They fought, they struggled, they tried to stand against an entire industry. And when they¡¯d exhausted every last ounce of strength, they either faded into numbness or leaped into the abyss.


    So Sheng Quan never criticized the logic of the story. Instead, she¡¯d raged, "Why couldn¡¯t you write about changing the system? Was it so hard to add a character who could fix things?!"


    Of course, the author had ignored her. That bastard had probably known the ending would infuriate readers¡ªfrom the very first chapter, they¡¯d never interacted with fans.


    At first, readers had praised the author¡¯s "mysterious, untouchable aura." Later, their admiration turned to curses: "You planned this all along, you¡ª[expletive]!!"


    Tu Zhu¡¯s ending had been just a fleeting moment in the book, seen through another character¡¯s perspective. Compared to the rest of the story, his appearance was so brief it was easy to overlook.


    While reading, most had assumed Tu Zhu¡¯s role was simply to help the protagonist, Lan He, avoid a trap.


    But now, in this living world, as Sheng Quan studied Tu Zhu¡¯s file, the book¡¯s description of his fate flashed through her mind:


    Lan He woke up, restless after a sleepless night spent debating whether to attend that party¡ªsomething about it felt off. The first notification on her phone hit like a punch to the gut: [Tu Zhu committed suicide last night].


    ¡ª¡ªShe was stunned, then realized that Tu Zhu had actually sent her a message the night before: ["I''ve discovered something. Don''t attend the gathering the day after tomorrow. (This message has been deleted from my records. No need to reply.)"]


    ¡ª¡ªAt that moment, Lan He¡¯s tears suddenly streamed down her face. She couldn¡¯t even explain to herself why she was crying. She and Tu Zhu weren¡¯t close¡ªthey had only collaborated once before. Many in the industry were like this, each busy with their own lives, rarely meeting, having each other¡¯s contacts but never reaching out.


    ¡ª¡ª"Her ?????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????impression of Tu Zhu was vague. She only remembered that when he debuted, he smiled often. Then Tu Zhu gradually faded into obscurity, was attacked by anti-fans, struggled to terminate his contract with his company... and eventually, Tu Zhu slowly regained fame..."


    ¡ª¡ªThe weather was scorching, but Lan He felt icy cold all over. She sat on the bed, hugging herself tightly. She wondered¡ªdid Tu Zhu really commit suicide? The Tu Zhu who fought to stand up again even at his lowest, the Tu Zhu who discovered something wrong and kindly warned her... would he really take his own life?


    ¡ª¡ªSuddenly, she recalled her first meeting with Tu Zhu. A young man with features so exquisite they seemed unreal, smiling brightly and confidently, reaching out his hand with effortless cheer: "Hello, I¡¯m Tu Zhu."


    Lan He didn¡¯t attend that gathering in the end. Instead, she quietly began collecting information about it, spending five years to uncover the truth behind the event.


    The gatherings lured celebrities in, drugged the targeted individuals, took compromising photos, and blackmailed them. The chosen celebrities were carefully selected, which was why these "gatherings" had remained undisturbed for so long.


    The book described how this scandal sent shockwaves through the industry. Though the entertainment world was chaotic, it was still under government oversight. Break the law, and you¡¯d still face consequences.


    As for Tu Zhu¡¯s death, the book didn¡¯t explicitly state the cause, only mentioning that it was still under investigation. But most readers could guess¡ªTu Zhu, who had discovered the truth and still took the time to warn others, Tu Zhu, who had just clawed his way back from rock bottom... how could he have committed suicide?


    Originally, the truth behind Tu Zhu¡¯s death should have been gradually revealed through Lan He¡¯s perspective. After all, the people behind the gatherings had been arrested¡ªit was only a matter of time.


    But before Lan He could do anything, she died in a car accident, and the plot swiftly shifted to a new character.


    Yes, Lan He was dead.


    At that point, Sheng Quan was practically ready to rage in the comments section. Lan He had faced suppression, been blacklisted¡ªan actress forced to play detective. It was the perfect setup for a revenge thriller.


    And then, halfway through her revenge, she died in a car crash.


    By then, the story was already in its rushed finale, but some of the author¡¯s die-hard fans tried to justify it, calling it "realistic"¡ªhow accidents always come without warning.


    Sheng Quan: What the f¡ª kind of realism is this?!


    Back then, her anger had been mostly directed at Lan He¡¯s fate. She hadn¡¯t paid much attention to Tu Zhu, since his role began and ended with his death¡ªthe main storyline had revolved around Lan He.


    Readers mourned him briefly, then moved on.


    Sheng Quan had only picked up on two things: one, Tu Zhu had been a top-tier star before his death, and two, he was a good person. Otherwise, why would he warn Lan He, someone he¡¯d only worked with once?


    Now, looking at the photo in the dossier¡ªa Tu Zhu whose gloomy expression dulled his striking beauty¡ªshe clicked open a video on her computer.


    It was from Tu Zhu¡¯s time on I Love to Fly, the show that catapulted him to fame as the center of the debut group.


    In the video, sweat glistened on his forehead from dancing. His peach-blossom eyes were tinged red at the corners, long lashes fluttering as he gazed brightly into the camera.


    When he danced on stage, it was like he was radiating light.


    It wasn¡¯t an exaggeration to say that the moment Tu Zhu appeared, even his competitors couldn¡¯t help but look his way.


    Sheng Quan had seen plenty of beautiful men and women, but even she couldn¡¯t tear her eyes away from Tu Zhu as he effortlessly commanded attention.


    No wonder he had amassed legions of fans the moment he debuted. Even after terminating his contract and struggling in an industry with few performance opportunities, he still managed to make a comeback.


    His talent was undeniable.


    Sheng Quan had pored over the dossier on Tu Zhu countless times¡ªhis past competition videos, his acting roles, behind-the-scenes clips from his dramas.


    She had even gone to observe him from afar for a day, watching the eighteen-year-old finish work and quietly settle in a corner to study his script, murmuring lines to himself and practicing expressions.


    He was clearly willing to put in the effort. But just as clearly, Tu Zhu had no natural talent for acting. No matter how much he practiced, his expressions remained stiff, a far cry from the dazzling performer he was on stage.


    If the industry remained as unforgiving to idols as it had been, Tu Zhu¡¯s career would likely peak at the level described in the book, no matter how hard he tried.


    But now, Sheng Quan had the power to reshape the entire industry.


    She was curious¡ªwith her intervention, just how far could idols rise in China¡¯s entertainment scene?


    How many miracles could this unfamiliar territory in China¡¯s entertainment industry create for her?


    Sheng Quan closed the dossier.


    ["006."]


    006: ["I¡¯m here."]


    ["The candidate for this opportunity is confirmed."]


    ["Sponsor: Tu Zhu."]

 Chapter 110

    006 has always been efficient in handling matters. Once the funding recipient was confirmed, the money was transferred immediately.


    "Good heavens..."


    At the bank Sheng Quan frequently used, a man stared at the screen before him and couldn''t help but exclaim. He tried to stand up but realized his legs were trembling.


    When he attempted to make a phone call, he found his hands were shaking too.


    Finally, steadying himself, he managed to place the call:


    "President Chen, you might need to come over..."


    Xiahe Bank was one of the most prominent banks in China. By all accounts, its president, Chen Xinghe, held a position of considerable prestige. Such high status and extensive experience naturally shaped her composed demeanor in the face of any situation.


    But this time, when she rushed to the bank and saw the numbers on the screen, even she was momentarily stunned: "It''s already reached 900 million?"


    "Yes, and the amount is still increasing."


    A client of Sheng Quan''s caliber was never treated as ordinary by the bank. The man who was still slightly trembling was Lin Ming, Sheng Quan''s dedicated account manager at this branch.


    Sheng Quan''s liquid assets in the bank typically ranged from tens of millions to several billion yuan. For such clients, banks always rolled out the red carpet.


    Lin Ming had long heard about Sheng Quan''s financial prowess, so he served her with utmost caution, terrified that any misstep might prompt her to transfer her funds elsewhere.


    Sheng Quan never needed to visit the bank for transactions¡ªLin Ming handled everything personally. Private banking services were just the basics; he routinely sent gifts and greetings during holidays.


    To put it bluntly, if Sheng Quan called him and said, "I¡¯m thinking of changing cars¡ªany recommendations?" this banker would rush to her within an hour, armed with exhaustive research on every possible model, ready to spend an entire day¡ªno, even a whole month¡ªhelping her choose.


    But Sheng Quan clearly had no such inclinations. Her personal account rarely saw activity, and when it did, it was usually handled by Starlight Entertainment¡¯s representatives.


    After an initial period of unease, Lin Ming gradually relaxed, seeing no signs that Sheng Quan intended to take her business elsewhere.


    He had even once thought to himself, with relief, How fortunate to have a client who¡¯s steady and undemanding.


    And then, today, the "steady and undemanding" Sheng Quan dropped a bombshell.


    While Chen Xinghe was still speaking with him, Sheng Quan¡¯s account balance skyrocketed to 1.3 billion.


    "President Chen, I¡¯ve checked all the sources¡ªthey¡¯re legitimate. But this..."


    Lin Ming was at a complete loss. Normally, a massive inflow of funds into a client¡¯s account would be cause for celebration.


    But a single account surging to 1.3 billion in such a short time¡ªand still climbing¡ªwas beyond anything he¡¯d ever imagined.


    He had fantasized about clients depositing large sums before, but never in his wildest dreams had he envisioned something this staggering.


    He¡¯d even pinched himself discreetly, confirming from the pain that this wasn¡¯t some absurd hallucination.


    Under normal circumstances, the bank¡¯s first suspicion would be money laundering. But after repeated verification, every single transaction was impeccably legal¡ªflawless.


    "President Chen, the amount is too substantial. You may need to speak with Sheng Quan personally."


    Chen Xinghe watched as the final figure settled at 2 billion. Even for someone accustomed to high-stakes dealings, her heart raced at the sight.


    A bank¡¯s liquid reserves certainly exceeded 2 billion, but a single individual¡¯s account holding that much? That was unprecedented.


    Sheng Quan...


    Her mind flashed to the young client who mostly appeared in entertainment headlines. Then, looking back at the staggering sum before her, Chen Xinghe recalled the rumors.


    At her level, information flowed freely. The buzz around the holographic stage project was impossible to miss, and she¡¯d heard whispers about Sheng Quan¡¯s alleged 2-billion-yuan investment.


    But those spreading the rumors had doubted its credibility. What did 2 billion in cash represent?


    It could buy a skyscraper.


    Or fund a hospital.


    Or generate endless returns through investments.


    The value was too immense. Back then, she hadn¡¯t believed Sheng Quan would pour 2 billion into a mere stage.


    Now, she had no choice but to reconsider.


    Chen Xinghe narrowed her eyes, recalling Starlight Entertainment¡¯s previous attempts to collaborate with Xiahe Bank. A decision crystallized in her mind.


    Pulling out her phone, she told her subordinate, "Leave this to me. I¡¯ll contact Sheng Quan directly."


    At the Sheng residence, Sheng Quan had just finished a leisurely horseback ride around her estate¡¯s gardens. Handing the reins to Evan, she took the phone he offered and answered cheerfully:


    "President Chen, meeting tomorrow? Of course¡ªtime and place are entirely up to you."


    After a brief exchange, she hung up and returned the phone to Evan, accepting the soft towel he handed her to dab the sweat from her forehead.


    The rhythmic sound of hooves on grass approached from behind as Gu Zhao guided his horse to her side at a leisurely pace. He too took a towel, wiping the light sheen of sweat from his brow.


    Turning slightly toward Sheng Quan, his striking light eyes¡ªperhaps from the ride or the sunlight¡ªseemed even paler than usual. His typically cool gaze held an uncharacteristic softness.


    But the moment he spoke, that illusion shattered under his businesslike tone.


    "Since President Chen has agreed to cooperate, I¡¯ll finalize the documents tonight."


    "Exactly. ?????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????This takes a huge load off the company¡¯s expansion plans." Sheng Quan¡¯s mood was buoyant¡ªher objective was achieved.


    Indeed, she had seized this opportunity to flaunt her financial might before Xiahe Bank, leveraging the 2 billion to make an unforgettable impression.


    006¡¯s work was always seamless. Just as it had discreetly amassed assets for Sheng Quan in the past, the funds¡¯ arrival was untraceable, leaving no room for scrutiny.


    To Xiahe Bank, Sheng Quan would now appear as an inscrutable figure of unfathomable wealth. And naturally, the stalled negotiations between Starlight Entertainment and the bank would gain momentum.


    With substantial loans secured, Starlight would embark on an unprecedented global expansion, positioning itself as the premier backer of the world¡¯s first holographic stage.


    Sheng Quan and Gu Zhao exchanged a glance. No words were needed¡ªthe shared ambition in their eyes said it all.


    True, Starlight was already a behemoth in China¡¯s entertainment industry. But for two relentlessly driven minds, that was far from enough.


    The world¡¯s inaugural holographic stage was the perfect opportunity.


    ¡ªStarlight Entertainment¡¯s debut on the global stage.


    Sheng Quan couldn¡¯t wait for that day. The thrill of it surpassed even the joy of admiring countless handsome faces and beauties.


    Along this journey, she had harvested various fruits of success, and now that she was about to taste the biggest and sweetest one, of course she was thrilled.


    But thrilled as she was, she still kept her wits about her.


    Sheng Quan glanced at Gu Zhao beside her. Though his expression remained as composed as a mountain, she doubted his heart was equally calm.


    Hadn¡¯t she noticed how his well-manicured, slender fingers were unconsciously stroking the neck of the horse beneath him?


    It had to be said¡ªin terms of appearance, Gu Zhao truly lived up to the title of "most handsome CEO." Even his fingers looked several degrees more attractive than anyone else¡¯s.


    Under the sunlight, riding on horseback, the girl who still retained her youthful face but carried a far more refined aura than a few years ago suddenly laughed.


    Gu Zhao, still immersed in the "charge toward the peak" mindset, was caught off guard by Sheng Quan¡¯s radiant smile, instantly pulled into her lighthearted mood.


    His typically expressionless, beautiful face showed rare traces of bewilderment.


    Sheng Quan rarely saw him like this, which only made her laugh even more joyfully.


    Gu Zhao stared at her, his strikingly beautiful eyes blinking rapidly a few times, as if dazed.


    Seeing the usually unflappable Gu Zhao seemingly stunned by her laughter, Sheng Quan, still amused, decided not to tease him further¡ªthough teasing him was undeniably fun.


    Leaning slightly sideways on her horse, she patted his shoulder:


    "Do you remember the first time we met? You said you wanted to build the company into the absolute best, unrivaled at the pinnacle."


    Gu Zhao naturally remembered.


    But he hadn¡¯t expected Sheng Quan to recall it too¡ªword for word.


    Still smiling, her eyes curved into crescents, shimmering with starlight and brimming with ambition and certainty, she said:


    "Now, we¡¯ve finally taken the first step."


    Gu Zhao gazed at her. The corners of his lips, usually set in a straight line, lifted slightly¡ªjust enough to be noticeable.


    His heart beat faster than usual, as if playing a melody of joy and ambition, and when he looked at Sheng Quan bathed in sunlight, his light-colored eyes were filled with unwavering resolve.


    Once again, he made his promise:


    "Yes, we¡¯ve finally taken the first step."


    "I assure you, Starlight Entertainment will reach the unrivaled peak."


    006 chimed in at the perfect moment: [Host¡¯s career progress: 51%]


    [Host¡¯s career progress has surpassed 50%. Please proceed with the prize draw.]


    Sheng Quan¡¯s already high spirits soared even further at the mention of the prize draw.


    But she suppressed the urge to immediately start drawing and instead told 006: [I¡¯ll save it for when I really need it.]


    "Oh, right¡ªhas the audition started yet?"


    She turned to ask Evan, who had been standing quietly nearby. He nodded:


    "Yes, it began at nine this morning. It¡¯s been exactly an hour now."


    Sheng Quan dismounted. The early autumn breeze carried a slight chill, but before she could even feel the cold, a coat was draped over her shoulders.


    She turned and smiled at the tall man who had placed it there: "Thanks, Jiang Lu."


    Jiang Lu¡¯s usually sharp features softened slightly in her presence: "Want to go take a look?"


    "Yeah, I¡¯d like to see. It¡¯s been a while since I¡¯ve been part of such a lively event."


    Sheng Quan stretched her neck. "Being cooped up at home receiving visitors every day is suffocating."


    Besides, based on her understanding of Tu Zhu¡¯s personality, he would definitely show up on the first day of auditions.


    After reviewing all the written and video materials about him, Sheng Quan was eager to see the radiant version of him in person.


    She looked back at Gu Zhao, who had also dismounted: "Want to come along?"


    After a brief hesitation, Gu Zhao replied, "I¡¯ll head back to the company."


    Sheng Quan wasn¡¯t surprised at all.


    Gu Zhao practically lived in his office. The only reason he¡¯d come to her place for horseback riding today was because she¡¯d insisted.


    Still, there was progress.


    Two years ago, she would¡¯ve had to threaten him with company documents just to get him to step outside.


    Now, after a few invitations, he¡¯d actually agree.


    Sheng Quan felt a sense of accomplishment about this.


    She was quite satisfied with the good rapport she had with her subordinates¡ªit was leagues better than her "slavedriver" boss in her past life.


    Under Jiang Lu¡¯s escort, Sheng Quan boarded her comfortable mode of transportation: a helicopter.


    Another day without traffic jams.


    Wu Ying had been truly foresighted when she chose a building with a helipad as the audition venue.


    Audition Building.


    Tu Zhu and his lawyer friend, who had volunteered to accompany him, had just stepped out of the car when they heard the sound of a helicopter overhead.


    Looking up, they caught sight of a sleek, stylish helicopter approaching the building¡¯s rooftop.


    The lawyer friend muttered, "Damn rich people," before suddenly realizing: "Wait¡ªis that Sheng Quan?!"


    There were quite a few wealthy individuals in the city who traveled by helicopter now, but this was the audition building for the holographic stage competition¡ªa project Sheng Quan had spearheaded.


    The likelihood of it being her was extremely high.


    Though it had nothing to do with him, the lawyer couldn¡¯t contain his excitement:


    "Tu Zhu! This is great! If Sheng Quan is really here¡ªshe¡¯s famous for her sharp eye for talent, only caring about ability¡ªif you can catch her attention, you¡¯ll skyrocket overnight!"


    Tu Zhu had realized it even faster.


    He had always held deep admiration for Sheng Quan and recognized her helicopter immediately.


    But the faint glimmer of hope in his eyes¡ªeyes that seemed too weary for his age¡ªflickered out almost instantly.


    "Ma Tong, it¡¯s not that easy. It¡¯s even less likely than a pipe dream."


    "How is it a pipe dream? It¡¯s a hopeful possibility! And I really think there¡¯s a chance. If Chairwoman Sheng Quan appreciates you¡ªah, just thinking about it is thrilling."


    The eighteen-year-old boy seemed about to glance upward again as he climbed the steps, but in the end, he lowered his gaze. Despite his youth, his entire demeanor carried an air of exhaustion.


    "It won¡¯t happen. Stop talking about it."


    "Tu Zhu..."


    Tu Zhu paused and looked at him:


    "Ma Tong, I know you mean well, but... even I can¡¯t appreciate myself anymore."


    He raised his head slightly, his once radiant and delicate face now etched with self-mockery:


    "Tell me¡ªwho could possibly appreciate someone like me now?"


    Ma Tong fell silent for a moment before sighing and patting Tu Zhu¡¯s shoulder gently. "It¡¯ll get better. One day, it will."


    "Though... you should just call me Ma Ge from now on. Drop the full name."

 Chapter 111

    "Is that Tu Zhu?"


    "Tu Zhu?! Tu Zhu is here for the auditions? Quick! Get the camera! Make sure you get a high-definition shot of his face!"


    "Did you catch the helicopter landing at the audition building earlier? There¡¯s a chance Sheng Quan might actually be inside."


    The hype around the holographic stage was evident just by the sheer number of paparazzi and reporters camped outside the audition building.


    For most talent show auditions, ninety-nine out of a hundred participants are complete unknowns¡ªhardly newsworthy for media professionals.


    Yet this was only the preliminary round, and the building was already surrounded by crowds of people lying in wait. Some carried their own cameras, while others brought photographers along.


    There were even savvy internet influencers seizing the opportunity to ride the wave of popularity, squatting nearby with their phones, live-streaming and commentating.


    Wu Yun was one such influencer who¡¯d come to capitalize on the buzz. Ever since his account, [Riding a Little Donkey], went viral for covering Sheng Quan¡¯s fan-driven, big-budget investment in the drama The Path of Life, he¡¯d struck gold overnight.


    From then on, [Riding a Little Donkey] became the go-to account for all things Sheng Quan, tracking her every move and reporting on Starry Horizon¡¯s developments in real time. His relentless coverage earned him a massive following among Sheng Quan¡¯s fans.


    Now, [Riding a Little Donkey] had grown into a heavyweight among influencers, and Wu Yun never forgot who he owed his success to.


    To put it bluntly, Sheng Quan had countless fans, but when it came to loyalty, Wu Yun ranked in the top ten.


    Was Sheng Quan just a celebrity to him? No¡ªshe was his bread and butter!


    So the moment he spotted the helicopter, Wu Yun¡¯s phone camera was already tracking its every move.


    Of course, after capturing footage of his benefactor¡¯s helicopter, he couldn¡¯t miss Tu Zhu either¡ªa controversial figure whose number of anti-fans could easily rival the top three in the entertainment industry.


    Truth be told, Wu Yun didn¡¯t usually follow idol culture, but in his eyes, Sheng Quan was his goddess.


    And if his goddess was backing something, success was guaranteed.


    Besides, the world¡¯s first holographic stage?


    Wu Yun had saved up some money by now, so the moment Sheng Quan¡¯s holographic equipment hit the market, he splurged on a top-tier holographic simulator.


    It wasn¡¯t as advanced as a full holographic pod, but it was leagues better than a basic headset. To enhance his experience, he even signed up for a gym membership nearby, hoping that better physical fitness would improve his gameplay.


    It didn¡¯t take long before Wu Yun, now on a strict sleep schedule to optimize his simulator time, started feeling healthier. Naturally, he credited this improvement to his goddess.


    So when Sheng Quan announced the holographic stage auditions, of course he was all in!


    The area around the audition building was heavily guarded by Starry Horizon¡¯s security, keeping the swarm of reporters and onlookers at bay.


    The entire block had been rented out by Starry Horizon to ensure the preliminary auditions ran smoothly.


    At first, some had scoffed at the extravagance¡ªwhy rent an entire building just for initial auditions?


    But once Wu Yun and the others arrived, they quickly realized Starry Horizon¡¯s decision wasn¡¯t overkill at all. In the short time they¡¯d been there, the number of people entering the building could fill an entire train carriage.


    "Tu Zhu... didn¡¯t he just terminate his contract with his old company?"


    As Tu Zhu disappeared inside, Wu Yun set his phone aside and whispered to his assistant¡ªyes, he had an assistant now.


    The assistant nodded. "Yeah, and it was a messy split too. Shenhua Entertainment released a statement hinting that Tu Zhu betrayed them, claiming they were the ones who made him famous, only for him to turn his back on them. They practically called him out by name."


    "No wonder his Weibo got flooded again. But wasn¡¯t he already popular before signing with Shenhua?"


    The assistant shrugged. "Anti-fans don¡¯t care about facts¡ªthey just want an excuse to hate. Tu Zhu¡¯s fans are completely outnumbered now. His Weibo¡¯s a warzone. But him showing up for the holographic stage auditions? That¡¯s huge news!"


    "Big news? Tu Zhu¡¯s not even the headline here."


    A voice suddenly cut in, startling both of them. They turned to see a man crouched in the corner, smoking. Wu Yun spotted the press pass around his neck. "You¡¯re a reporter?"


    He sidled up with an eager grin, all ears.


    "Hey man, we just got here, and we¡¯re not pros. What do you mean Tu Zhu¡¯s not the headline? Are there other celebrities here too?"


    The reporter stood, dusting himself off, and pointed at the building.


    "Stick around and you¡¯ll see. This place isn¡¯t just ¡®other celebrities¡¯¡ªif this show doesn¡¯t blow up, I¡¯ll wash my hair standing on my head."


    Inside the audition building, Tu Zhu and Lawyer Ma quickly went through the registration process and received their number.


    Tu Zhu removed his mask¡ªthe rules here required it for surveillance purposes.


    Getting a number at a talent show audition was standard, but the problem was, this number was already at 1,800.


    Large-scale auditions often saw tens of thousands of participants, but numbers were usually reset daily. 1,800 meant that, just today, a thousand people had already entered the building before him.


    The staff member handing out numbers flashed a warm smile¡ªone that grew even brighter after getting a good look at Tu Zhu¡¯s face.


    "Your assigned floor is the 36th, Room 10. The elevators are over there."


    Tu Zhu took it in stride, but Lawyer Ma was another story. The moment they stepped into the empty elevator, he couldn¡¯t hold back.


    "Holy crap, we came this early and we¡¯re already at 1,800? How many people are auditioning? Did every eligible artist in the country show up?"


    No sooner had he spoken than the elevator doors, mid-close, suddenly reopened. Both men looked up to see five tall, strikingly handsome boys in matching team uniforms step inside.


    The moment they saw Tu Zhu, they froze.


    Behind them, three equally stunning girls in similar uniforms entered, their eyes widening at the sight of Tu Zhu before politely smiling and greeting them in slightly accented Mandarin:


    "Hello."


    Tu Zhu and Lawyer Ma returned the greeting, and the group turned away¡ªthough their gazes kept flickering back to Tu Zhu.


    They didn¡¯t speak, but unease simmered beneath the surface.


    Tu Zhu¡¯s looks were too striking. For idols like them, he was a natural threat.


    ¡ªDing!


    ¡ªDing!


    As the elevators arrived, the two groups stepped out and immediately began whispering among themselves in their respective languages.


    "He¡¯s from which country? He¡¯s so stunning, I almost thought I was looking at a video game character."


    "Oh my god, the competition is way too intense. How have I never heard of him before?"


    A young man with silver-white hair frowned in thought before suddenly recalling: "I know him. His name is Tu Zhu, he¡¯s from China."


    Once he remembered Tu Zhu¡¯s identity, his expression relaxed considerably.


    "No need to worry too much. From what I know, he hasn¡¯t performed on stage in a long time. His company doesn¡¯t even let him use the practice studio anymore."


    The others sighed in relief but were also curious. "How do you know so much about him?"


    The young man smirked, a little smug. "I¡¯ve been learning Chinese for a long time, and I keep up with news from China."


    Under the admiring and impressed gazes of his teammates, he basked in the praise¡ªthough he also felt a twinge of guilt.


    Well, the truth was, he¡¯d learned Chinese mainly to slide into Sheng Quan¡¯s private messages on Weibo, shamelessly promoting himself.


    Sheng Quan¡¯s reputation was far bigger than she realized.


    Just the fact that she had single-handedly propelled international superstar Jiang Zhen to fame was enough to make artists worldwide dream of catching her attention.


    Even though he was from Country V, he couldn¡¯t help fantasizing about "being discovered by China¡¯s Chairwoman Sheng and skyrocketing to success."


    Unfortunately, the bigger Shenhua Entertainment grew, the less Chairwoman Sheng appeared in public. All he could do was console himself with daydreams.


    Meanwhile, inside the elevator, Tu Zhu and Lawyer Ma were also discussing them.


    Lawyer Ma was still reeling in shock.


    "Wasn¡¯t that the super popular three-member girl group from Country P? And those guys¡ªthey looked familiar too, like a boy group from Country V."


    He was utterly floored. "Holy crap! They¡¯re letting international contestants join too?"


    Then, worry crept in.


    If it were just domestic competitors, he¡¯d have full confidence in Tu Zhu. But with international contestants in the mix...


    To be fair, China¡¯s idol industry wasn¡¯t as polished as theirs¡ªespecially Country P, which practically specialized in producing idols with a powerhouse entertainment culture.


    Before Shenhua Entertainment emerged, while people were busy trashing China¡¯s entertainment industry¡ªcriticizing capitalists, celebrities, screenwriters, and directors¡ªCountry P¡¯s entertainment scene was always held up as the golden standard.


    Even Lawyer Ma, an outsider to the industry, couldn¡¯t help thinking, "Damn, how are we supposed to compete with this?"


    Tu Zhu, however, wasn¡¯t surprised by the situation.


    Any artist who dedicated their life to the stage understood that holographic performances would revolutionize the industry.


    Unlike actors, idols were entirely confined to that small space¡ªthe stage. While performances could be recorded and shared, the real magic only happened live.


    The passion, the energy, the shared excitement, the screams and cheers¡ªon that dazzling stage, idols unleashed their charisma in motion.


    But how many people could actually fit into a live audience?


    And how much money did it take to set up a single concert?


    Even if fans made it to the venue, unless they had prime seats, most would end up watching the performance on a screen. They might as well have stayed home for all the detail they could see of their idol¡¯s face.


    For fans who adored idols, the effort often didn¡¯t match the payoff. Most didn¡¯t mind at first, but over time, they¡¯d drift away for one reason or another.


    Like... his own fans.


    Thinking of the hateful comments on Weibo, Tu Zhu closed his eyes.


    One last try... Just one more time.


    Even if no one would ever know how hard he¡¯d fought.


    ¡ª¡ªIn the control room, Sheng Quan was watching the array of large screens displaying surveillance feeds from every floor.


    Cameras covered every corner of the building¡ªhigh-definition visuals, crystal-clear audio¡ªensuring that once selected contestants gained fame, editors could splice together footage for fan content.


    Initially, the building management had resisted installing so many cameras. But when Shenhua offered to cover all costs, cooperation came swiftly.


    Of course, of course! If you need extra security personnel, we¡¯d be happy to assist!


    And it turned out the cameras were absolutely necessary.


    Less than three hours into auditions, every floor was already packed with people.


    Her gaze lingered on the 36th floor, settling on Tu Zhu.


    Chairwoman Sheng took a sip of her milk tea.


    Damn. No matter how many times she looked, he was just so breathtaking.


    Unlike the stiff expressions of actors with poor skills, or the gloomy aura she¡¯d seen from him on set last time, the Tu Zhu in the surveillance footage¡ªjust standing there, waiting for his turn¡ªwas mesmerizing.


    Were his features sculpted by Nuwa herself? How could someone be this impossibly good-looking? Not in the way of Yan Hui, Jin Jiu, or Jiang Zhen, but in a way that made it impossible to look away.


    So Chairwoman Sheng kept looking, completely unashamed of being so thoroughly captivated.


    Tu Zhu was the kind of person who could dominate a "most gorgeous face" ranking even in a world full of beautiful people.


    Her ?????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????appreciation was only natural.


    The beauty-loving Chairwoman indulged in the visual feast, reveling in the sheer pleasure of watching him.


    At the same time, it only reinforced her determination to push forward with the holographic stage project.


    Personal preferences shaped what people paid attention to. When she¡¯d read the original novel, Sheng Quan hadn¡¯t even remembered Tu Zhu.


    Partly because he¡¯d been a fleeting presence, with no depth given to his story.


    But mostly because, in her past life, she¡¯d never cared about idols.


    Fans of actors could just turn on a drama and enjoy their idol¡¯s top-tier acting in perfect clarity.


    Fans of singers could pop in earbuds, lie back, and lose themselves in their idol¡¯s music.


    Even fans of comedians could laugh their hearts out, getting exactly what they wanted.


    But fans of idols?


    The explosive energy of a live stage wasn¡¯t something they could experience anytime.


    Even if they were willing to travel far, spend on tickets, venues had limited capacity¡ªand good luck actually snagging a seat.


    As a corporate drone, Sheng Quan had rarely had time, money, and energy to spare simultaneously.


    Even something as simple as following actors had been too much effort. Her biggest hobby had been reading novels.


    She could read during her commute, after overtime, while eating, even while bathing if she switched to audiobooks.


    She¡¯d always believed that, for overworked employees, fiction was the perfect pastime.


    Chasing stars? Who had the time?


    She didn¡¯t even have the bandwidth to research which celebrities were least likely to have scandals.


    However, when the stage merges with holographic technology, it means that any audience member can step into the holographic world and experience their favorite idol¡¯s performance up close.


    Sheng Quan¡¯s decision to adopt a holographic stage wasn¡¯t a spur-of-the-moment idea¡ªit was the result of careful consideration from every angle.


    From a fan¡¯s perspective, a holographic stage is nothing short of a godsend. Just imagining it fills them with boundless joy.


    And it¡¯s not just live performances¡ªthere are replays too.


    Fans can relive their idol¡¯s radiant stage presence over and over, from the best possible vantage point, much like how Sheng Quan enjoys savoring her favorite novels during her commute.


    Holographic technology and idol performances are like a mismatched pot and lid¡ªonce incomplete, now a perfect fit.


    The idol industry, once a short-lived career with a glass ceiling, is poised for a revolution under holographic technology, propelling it to the forefront of the entertainment world.


    And this "forefront" isn¡¯t limited to just China.


    That is Sheng Quan¡¯s true ambition.


    But for now, she needs to check in on the person she¡¯s been supporting.


    Tu Zhu stood quietly in the crowded hallway, unable to practice but mentally rehearsing every move.


    Lawyer Ma bustled about¡ªwhile his legal skills were merely above average, his social skills were nothing short of impeccable.


    In no time, he was buddying up with Artist A, correcting Artist B¡¯s dance moves, exchanging private contacts with Artist C, and even answering a few legal questions for Artist D.


    He even managed to sweet-talk the security staff into revealing the location of the break room, returning triumphantly with two cups¡ªa drink for himself and plain water for Tu Zhu, who needed to protect his voice.


    Sipping his beverage, he eagerly shared the latest gossip:


    "Did you hear? It¡¯s confirmed¡ªthe person who arrived by helicopter earlier was none other than Chairwoman Sheng. Talk about an incognito visit!"


    "And get this¡ªeveryone¡¯s speculating why she¡¯s here for the auditions. The most popular theory? She¡¯s got her eye on a particular contestant and came just for them."


    Tu Zhu listened in silence as he drank his water.


    Having found the "Long Live Chairwoman Sheng, Endless Creations" forum, he was well aware of some of Sheng Quan¡¯s habits. When he heard she had actually come here, his thoughts aligned with the rumors.


    Everyone knew Sheng Quan had a penchant for personally scouting talent.


    During his darkest days, before breaking free from his contract, Tu Zhu had fantasized about catching her eye.


    But dreams were just that¡ªdreams.


    Given his tarnished reputation, the torrent of abuse flooding his Weibo comments, and the public¡¯s relentless disdain that had ground him into the dirt...


    Tu Zhu had long since stopped indulging in such fantasies.


    Around him, others whispered or buzzed excitedly about Sheng Quan¡¯s arrival.


    Most idols were young and spirited, brimming with hope and imagination¡ªjust like Tu Zhu once was.


    "I¡¯m so excited! Maybe Chairwoman Sheng will personally oversee the auditions."


    "This building has 43 floors¡ªwho knows which one she¡¯ll show up on?"


    "Ahhh, I¡¯m so nervous! I really hope she¡¯s the one judging me."


    "Keep dreaming! But hey, I¡¯ll dream with you!"


    Amid the chatter, Tu Zhu stood motionless, like a stone sinking silently into a river.


    "Contestant 1008, Tu Zhu, please enter Room 10."


    Tu Zhu stepped forward, walking steadily toward the door marked with a "10."


    He pushed it open¡ªand froze.


    Sunlight streamed through the window, casting a warm autumn glow over Sheng Quan. She met the gaze of the backlit young man at the door.


    With a smile, she raised her left hand and gave a casual little wave¡ªa simple, everyday greeting.


    "Hello, Tu Zhu."

 Chapter 112

    Tu Zhu froze in place.


    He hardly dared to hope, yet hope now stood right before him.


    His gaze then shifted to the judging panel seated on either side of Sheng Quan.


    To his astonishment, the renowned Zi Tian and He Rizhao were among them¡ªjust for a preliminary audition, yet judges of such caliber were already present.


    An opportunity... This was an opportunity beyond his wildest dreams...


    His mind was a whirlwind of thoughts until a staff member¡¯s voice snapped him back:


    "Tu Zhu, you may begin."


    As the music started, the clamor around him seemed to fade instantly. All his earlier anxieties vanished. Taking a deep breath, Tu Zhu bowed toward the judges.


    Until now, his eyes had always been downcast, but at this moment, he lifted them¡ªthose striking, slightly upturned yet subtly drooping peach-blossom eyes meeting their gaze.


    With the first notes of the song, he raised his hand gracefully, and in an instant, he commanded the attention of everyone in the room.


    Sheng Quan¡¯s eyes brightened as she watched Tu Zhu, whose demeanor now contrasted starkly with his earlier quiet reserve. A spark of anticipation flickered in her heart.


    A single gesture had transformed him entirely.


    Yet not everyone shared this sentiment. Among the judges assigned to this audition room, two briefly marveled before frowning slightly in regret.


    Tu Zhu was a revelation, but his song choice felt jarringly mismatched.


    The piece, titled "Ceasefire", was composed by the famed Mao Hai, with lyrics that varied across renditions. The song carried a weight of sorrow and grandeur¡ªits melody alone could evoke overwhelming grief.


    "Ceasefire" was a masterpiece, undeniably stunning on stage. But the problem lay in its theme: a lament for war and national tragedy. Tu Zhu, with his striking youth and beauty, seemed an ill fit.


    His looks might win him screen time and audience favor, but against the backdrop of such a somber piece, the contrast risked feeling abrupt and discordant.


    The judges, of course, refrained from voicing critiques mid-performance, but seated beside Sheng Quan, they couldn¡¯t help shaking their heads faintly.


    A pity. Had his time away from the stage dulled his judgment?


    Sheng Quan disagreed. Tu Zhu might have wrestled with self-doubt or even contemplated quitting, but on stage, she trusted his instincts.


    And she was right. As the rhythm built, his slender frame moved with unexpected power and lethal precision. Those often-misread, faintly flushed peach-blossom eyes now burned with the desolate fury of a battlefield.


    ¡ª"The general¡¯s robes stained with blood, yet he turns to ask the child: ¡®Where can you look back to?¡¯"


    Tu Zhu was no longer the reticent artist.


    Razor-sharp intensity¡ªseething hatred¡ªcrushing sorrow¡ªsubdued turmoil¡ªhollowed reflection¡ª


    Every motion was a sword thrust, yet fluid with dance. His rises, his spins¡ªthough not technically flawless¡ªwere impeccably timed. No, more than that: they were masterful.


    Sheng Quan had never been one for dance performances, preferring vocals. But now, she reconsidered.


    Through Tu Zhu¡¯s artistry, she saw the chaos of battle, crumbling city walls, and civilians wailing amidst ruins, searching for lost loved ones.


    This was the power of great performance¡ªit pulled you into its emotional world.


    Each note, each movement, carried the weight of soldiers¡¯ lives.


    ¡ªClang! Clang!


    As the final metallic notes rang out, Tu Zhu completed his dance, kneeling breathlessly as sweat trailed from his hair.


    When he lifted his eyes, Sheng Quan felt she wasn¡¯t meeting Tu Zhu¡¯s gaze but that of a young general, hardened by war yet clinging to hope.


    Sharp. Dangerous. Grief buried deep, yet striving toward light.


    A visual feast!


    An absolute spectacle!


    Recordings paled in comparison¡ªthis live performance stunned her a thousand times over.


    Though "city-toppling dance" might be an overstatement, Sheng Quan couldn¡¯t help feeling this performance could conquer nations.


    So this was the joy of being a fan.


    ¡ª"Overall, quite solid."


    ¡ª"But the turn could¡¯ve been sharper. The transition felt stiff¡ªneeds more practice."


    ¡ª"Emotional delivery was strong, though technique requires work. The lack of polish shows."


    The judges murmured their assessments, jotting scores on their sheets.


    Sheng Quan: "......?"


    She snapped out of her daze, gulping boba tea to steady herself.


    This explosive, electrifying performance¡ªand all they said was "quite solid"?


    She¡¯d known China¡¯s entertainment industry was cutthroat, idols included, but this level of rigor was staggering.


    Back in her past life, a performance like this would¡¯ve catapulted Tu Zhu to overnight fame, outshining global competitors, even in a stagnant idol market.


    Here? It barely earned lukewarm praise, with most feedback nitpicking his flaws.


    And Tu Zhu? He absorbed every critique, visibly chastened.


    Sheng Quan took another swig of tea, suddenly envying this world¡¯s idol fans. How spoiled they must be!


    Wait¡ªshe could be one of them now.


    Her mood swiftly brightened.


    Tu Zhu, meanwhile, was riddled with anxiety.


    Since signing with Shenhua, he¡¯d been overworked¡ªdance practice was a luxury, sleep scarcer still.


    Then came the contract termination, draining him further. He¡¯d squeezed practice into what little rest he had.


    He knew he wasn¡¯t at his best... The youthful edge in his expression faded, replaced by growing unease under the judges¡¯ scrutiny.


    ¡ªHe feared elimination.


    Sheng Quan, reading his thoughts: "......"


    This level of performance, and he¡¯s worried about being cut? Just how brutal is this world¡¯s idol scene?


    She reconsidered her earlier dismissal of "China¡¯s struggling idol industry."


    Too nervous to meet the judges¡¯ eyes, Tu Zhu finally forced himself to look up.


    ¡ªAnd locked gazes with Sheng Quan, her face alight with admiration.


    Tu Zhu: ......Was that... praise?


    He barely trusted his own eyes, blinking to confirm¡ªyes, that was approval.


    Sheng Quan, famed for her discerning eye... thought he¡¯d done well?


    Sheng Quan: Kid, you were spectacular.


    From the original text and past news reports about Tu Zhu, it was evident that he carried a certain degree of low self-esteem.


    Regarding this, President Sheng also expressed understanding¡ªwasn¡¯t Jin Jiu in a similar situation? She had plenty of experience dealing with such cases.


    But after watching his performance... This guy dances so well and still feels insecure?


    President Sheng, who had recently taken up dancing, couldn¡¯t help but digress¡ªif she could perform like that, she¡¯d be floating on cloud nine.


    The judging panel beside her, while pointing out some minor flaws, couldn¡¯t hide their admiration. Their expressions and constant nods made it clear they found Tu Zhu¡¯s performance outstanding.


    Though they discussed critiques, not a single judge suggested he should be eliminated. Instead, they focused on noting areas where Tu Zhu could further refine his skills¡ªthis alone spoke volumes.


    Of course, Tu Zhu had no idea what Sheng Quan was mentally grumbling about.


    From his perspective, after his performance, only Sheng Quan had unreservedly expressed her appreciation for it.


    Tu Zhu stood there dazed, then watched as the dimness that had crept back into his eyes moments earlier gradually brightened again.


    [Ding! Tu Zhu¡¯s favorability has surpassed 80 points!]


    After the announcement, even 006 was surprised: [So fast? This is only the first time the host and the sponsored individual have met face-to-face.]


    Sheng Quan, however, didn¡¯t seem surprised. She had noticed it the moment Tu Zhu entered the room: [He¡¯s definitely been paying attention to me before this.]


    [This favorability was accumulated long ago.]


    From the moment he stepped in, Tu Zhu¡¯s gaze had been fixed on Sheng Quan¡ªonly shifting when his performance began.


    Moreover, he hadn¡¯t terminated his contract with his company earlier or later, but right after Sheng Quan¡¯s Starlight unveiled its holographic stage. Then, immediately after breaking free, his first move was to audition.


    He was staking his entire career on this very stage.


    [The domestic performance scene is a tangled mess. The slightest misstep¡ªwhether it¡¯s a tarnished reputation leading the showrunners to exclude him for safety, or someone with connections replacing him¡ªwould leave Tu Zhu, who sacrificed everything to terminate his contract, utterly ruined.]


    Sheng ?????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????Quan had expected Tu Zhu to audition, but even she, who always stayed ahead of the game, never imagined he¡¯d burn all bridges to do so.


    He left himself no way back.


    Tu Zhu was young, but Sheng Quan didn¡¯t believe he was reckless¡ªunless he was certain the holographic stage wouldn¡¯t fail him.


    That it would remain fair and just from start to finish, just as promised.


    She had wondered why Tu Zhu was so confident.


    Now, after 006¡¯s reminder, she understood.


    Looking at the young man with his faintly flushed peach-blossom eyes, cautiously glowing as he gazed at her, Sheng Quan suddenly remembered her initial goal after transmigrating¡ªto change things. Whether it was artists, directors, the entertainment industry as a whole, or... that tragic, all-loss ending.


    Only now did she truly realize: she had succeeded.


    In the original story, Tu Zhu fought alone until the end. Yet here, before even meeting her, he had chosen to trust her promise¡ªto believe in the fairness and justice she had created.


    ¡ªThis world had changed.


    And it would only grow better under her influence.


    At this moment, Sheng Quan couldn¡¯t quite put her emotions into words. She only knew she was happy.


    ¡ªTu Zhu, clutching the pass certificate, could barely contain his excitement as he floated out of the room on unsteady feet.


    Lawyer Ma rushed over: ¡°How did it go?!¡±


    For once, Tu Zhu¡¯s flawless face showed a hint of youthful bashfulness: ¡°I... I made it.¡±


    ¡°Amazing!¡±


    Lawyer Ma nearly whooped with joy. He had witnessed Tu Zhu being skinned alive to break his contract. Had this opportunity slipped away, Tu Zhu would¡¯ve ended up as a janitor at his law firm.


    ¡°Let¡¯s go eat! Today calls for a celebration!¡±


    As his friend chattered away, Tu Zhu¡¯s mind replayed the pure admiration in President Sheng¡¯s eyes. For the first time in two years, a spark reignited in his heart.


    President Sheng... saw him.


    The very President Sheng renowned for her discerning eye.


    She had actually praised his performance.


    Tu Zhu lowered his gaze, suppressing his exhilaration, forcing himself to steady his emotions. Determination solidified in his eyes.


    ¡ªHe wouldn¡¯t let President Sheng down.


    Meanwhile, the subject of his thoughts was in high spirits. And when Sheng Quan was happy, she celebrated.


    As for how President Sheng celebrated...


    Having discovered a new world of enjoyment, Sheng Quan turned to her secretary with a delighted smile:


    ¡°Clear my schedule today. I¡¯m staying to watch the auditions. Which floor is the girl group tryouts on? I¡¯m heading there now.¡±


    The thrill of witnessing dazzling, fiercely competitive performances? Sheng Quan was all in now.


    Ahahahaha¡ªso this was the joy of being a fan! The sheer exhilaration of experiencing an idol¡¯s explosive stage presence firsthand!


    Now, it belonged to Sheng Newfound Enthusiasm Quan.

 Chapter 113

    ¡¾Sheng Quan Appears at the Guoxinghai Holographic Stage Auditions!¡¿


    This headline shot to the top of trending searches almost instantly.


    Just how popular Sheng Quan is can be gauged by the flood of comments that appeared under the trending topic within seconds.


    ¡¾Ahhhh! It''s our Chairwoman Sheng! Is she also judging the auditions?!¡¿


    ¡¾I can''t believe Chairwoman Sheng is actually there in person! I should''ve signed up!!!¡¿


    ¡¾I was there, but I didn¡¯t get to see her. Rumor has it she doesn¡¯t stay in one room¡ªshe watches a performance and then randomly moves to the next. Ugh, my luck wasn¡¯t good enough to catch her.¡¿


    ¡¾No wonder Chairwoman Sheng suddenly posted on Weibo about today being an "appreciation day"! She was there to watch the auditioning contestants!!¡¿


    ¡¾I didn¡¯t get in either, but I heard one contestant who got eliminated still received a recommendation from Chairwoman Sheng. They left crying tears of joy.¡¿


    ¡¾I can confirm¡ªthat girl was laughing and sobbing as she walked past me.¡¿


    ¡¾OMG, have you seen the latest news?! VN from P Nation is competing too! They¡¯re one of P Nation¡¯s most famous groups!!!¡¿


    ¡¾No way! Even Tuti, the boy group from K Nation, is here! I¡¯d heard international contestants might join, but no one said they¡¯d be this huge!!!¡¿


    ¡¾Wait, seriously?! Holy crap, I¡¯m checking this out right now!¡¿


    As reporters, paparazzi, and influencers posted their hard-earned photos of the event online, the already buzzing internet exploded like oil meeting water.


    Even from a distance, these professionals managed to capture crystal-clear shots of every notable celebrity with their high-powered lenses.


    Fans didn¡¯t just get recognizable facial features¡ªthey could even spot the faintest fine lines near the eyes that would normally go unnoticed in real life.


    In no time, the photos from the Guoxinghai auditions turned into a game of "spot the star."


    Screenshots flooded social media with captions like:


    ¡¾That¡¯s Song Zhen! AHHHH, my Zhen Zhen!¡¿


    ¡¾That¡¯s Hai Hai¡ªsee the mole near his eye? It¡¯s definitely him! He actually showed up? Wow, didn¡¯t he say he hated the entertainment scene in China? Talk about a reversal.¡¿


    ¡¾Kano! I studied in G Nation, and he¡¯s pretty famous there too. I can¡¯t believe he came. Guoxinghai¡¯s lineup is stacked with legends!¡¿


    And it truly was a legendary lineup. Even before filming began, contestants from nearly every major country had gathered, along with a few from smaller nations with hard-to-pronounce names.


    Chinese netizens had high expectations for Guoxinghai, a talent competition show, for two reasons: first, it was produced by Starlight Entertainment, and second, everyone was eager to see the holographic stage in action.


    While many had speculated about international contestants joining, no one expected this many¡ªor this level of fame.


    Watching the footage of foreign stars¡ªsome masked, others openly smiling¡ªpolitely greeting staff backstage left many netizens stunned.


    Some, still stuck in the mindset of "China¡¯s entertainment industry used to lag behind," couldn¡¯t quite process it.


    Since when did China¡¯s entertainment scene become this powerful?


    One office worker, sneaking a peek at these photos during work hours, recognized several foreign celebrities who had once visited China with an air of superiority.


    Now, they were humbly auditioning for a Chinese talent show.


    Baffled, the worker posted on a gossip forum:


    ¡¾Am I daydreaming at work? This feels too surreal¡ªcan¡¯t tell if it¡¯s a good dream or just plain weird.¡¿


    The post immediately drew a crowd of amused onlookers.


    ¡¾How is this a dream? Have you been living under a rock? China¡¯s entertainment industry has been killing it lately.¡¿


    ¡¾Should I list the overseas box office numbers for our recent films and the global buzz around our dramas?¡¿


    ¡¾Seconded!¡¿


    ¡¾LOL, is OP stuck in the past? Too much overtime frying your brain?¡¿


    ¡¾Need I remind you? "Stellar Wars" was just praised by U Nation media to shame their own sci-fi flops. "The Cultivators" took the world by storm, and even "Polar¡ªThe Ultimate Player," jokingly called a hologram ad, smashed box office records.


    When that film was casting, foreign actors flocked to China for auditions, begging for even a non-speaking role.¡¿


    It¡¯s only natural for a talent show to have some foreign contestants, especially since this is the world¡¯s first holographic stage, meticulously crafted by Sheng Quan. OP, if you were a foreign contestant, wouldn¡¯t you want to participate?


    The office worker had always kept up with entertainment gossip. He¡¯d seen every movie mentioned by netizens in the thread and had even passionately left glowing reviews online.


    With each cinematic triumph and its ripple effects, he¡¯d followed along, only now realizing that, through these works, China was no longer the "entertainment underdog" it once was. Unconsciously, it had become a magnet for artists from other countries.


    After reading the replies in the thread, the office worker couldn¡¯t help but smirk.


    Honestly, watching contestants who once looked down on China now scrambling to prove themselves just for a chance to stay¡ªhow satisfying was that?


    Of ?????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????course, not everyone shared his enthusiasm. Some netizens were unhappy about foreign contestants stealing spots from local talent.


    The holographic stage was a passion project pushed by Chairman Sheng, guaranteed to dazzle. How could they let outsiders snatch such a grand opportunity?


    The internet erupted in chaos. Some saw it as proof of China¡¯s entertainment industry¡¯s growing appeal. Others, upon discovering their favorite idols were competing, immediately switched sides, digging up dirt on rival contestants to thin the competition.


    Some were simply xenophobic. Some egged on the drama with chants of "Fight! Fight!" And then there were those, like mischievous melon-eating onlookers, hopping around gleefully to savor the chaos.


    Amidst the uproar, the news that "Tu Zhu had joined the auditions"¡ªwhich would normally be headline-worthy¡ªbarely made a splash.


    Only fans and antis stubbornly held their ground, still bickering despite the flood of drama.


    "LOL, Tu Zhu hasn¡¯t been on stage in ages. He¡¯d probably get booed off."


    "Bamboo (Tu Zhu¡¯s nickname) debuted as the center of Love Me Fly! The stage is his home turf! Go Bamboo! We¡¯re rooting for you!"


    "Home turf? He¡¯s been busy acting in trash films¡ªwhen would he even have time to practice? I bet he won¡¯t even pass the first round. Center debut? More like a nepo baby with no skills."


    The moment this hater¡¯s comment dropped, fans erupted in fury. The usual cycle ensued: arguments, receipts, and outright insults¡ªnothing was spared.


    Lurking bystanders could easily spot the lack of confidence in Tu Zhu¡¯s fans.


    While other contestants¡¯ supporters boldly declared, "My idol¡¯s gonna take first place!" Tu Zhu¡¯s fans meekly chirped, "Looking forward to his performance."


    Not even a "Tu Zhu will definitely make it!" could be mustered.


    But it made sense. Tu Zhu had been a rising star at debut, yet every step afterward seemed like self-sabotage. His acting was so notoriously bad even casual bystanders knew about it.


    "Incompetent"¡ªthat label had clung to him for years.


    Even his fans dared not oversell him, fearing backlash.


    A bystander left a poignant comment:


    "Kinda sad. Even his fans don¡¯t believe he can win."


    The remark quickly shot to the top, proving many silent onlookers shared the sentiment. Most wouldn¡¯t comment, but a quick upvote? That was effortless.


    ¡ª¡ªIn a damp, cramped room, Tu Zhu stared at the top comment for a few seconds before setting his phone down.


    He turned to face the mirror, his reflection dull and weary.


    It wasn¡¯t just his mood¡ªhis savings had been drained by his exploitative company, and what little remained was spent breaking free from Shenhua.


    Then, to join Guoxinghai, he turned down every offer, dedicating every ounce of energy to this stage.


    Now, this tiny room was all he could afford.


    The air reeked of mildew. Noise from next door seeped through his headphones. Yet, undisturbed, Tu Zhu raised his arms and began to move, his steps light across the soundproofed floor.


    Under the dim light, his figure seemed shadowed¡ªbut his eyes burned clear and bright.


    It didn¡¯t matter if no one believed in him.


    At least Chairman Sheng saw his worth.


    Mid-spin, he paused, locking gazes with his reflection.


    He would make it to the end.


    No matter what.


    ¡ª¡ª"We¡¯re doomed."


    In a hotel room, a silver-haired, ethereally beautiful young man groaned in broken Mandarin, turning to his teammate.


    "They... don¡¯t want foreigners... to join."


    The young man¡¯s looks were so striking it was as if an anime character had stepped right out of the screen. Combined with his endearingly clueless demeanor and exceptional talent, he had gained considerable fame in his home country.


    But right now, he was utterly stressed.


    ¡°We barely made it through the auditions. This opportunity is too important.¡±


    There was a reason he was speaking Mandarin¡ªhis teammate was from China.


    ¡°Don¡¯t worry. Since we passed the auditions, the production team won¡¯t disqualify us just because of some online chatter.¡±


    His teammate, with his eye-catching red hair and a face that radiated sunshine and confidence, flashed a bold, self-assured grin:


    ¡°Talented people never have to fear being left behind, no matter where they go.¡±


    ¡°Pack your bags. This championship is ours.¡±


    ¡ª¡ªNext door, in another hotel, the members of P-country¡¯s top girl group were holding a strategy meeting. As the nation¡¯s leading ensemble, each member boasted striking beauty and unique charm.


    The girls huddled together, listening to their blonde leader¡¯s instructions:


    ¡°Once we¡¯re on-site, we need to seize every second to practice.¡±


    ¡°Since the competition separates genders, we only need to focus on the other female contestants. From what I¡¯ve observed, there are at least a dozen strong rivals. We don¡¯t know if the production team will reshuffle the groups, so for now, let¡¯s keep working on our Mandarin.¡±


    ¡°Give it 110%¡ªfirst place belongs to us!¡±


    ¡°Let¡¯s go!¡±


    ¡°Let¡¯s go!!¡±


    ¡ª¡ªIn the adjacent room, a short-haired girl twirled a lollipop stick between her lips as she stepped back inside from the balcony. Her sharp, almond-shaped eyes gave her an air of cool elegance, and she arched a brow with quiet amusement.


    This Chinese contestant, fluent in P-language, glanced at the contestant badge in her hand¡ªproof of her successful audition¡ªand beneath her long lashes, her eyes burned with unwavering determination.


    ¡°It¡¯s yours, you say?¡±


    ¡°Not necessarily.¡±


    While the gorgeous contestants who had cleared the auditions were busy preparing, a sleek luxury car pulled up right in front of the audition building.


    Moments later, Gu Zhao, holding documents that required Sheng Quan¡¯s signature, strode unimpeded into the audition room where she was currently stationed.


    Inside, a girl group from U-country was performing. Though it was already the third day of auditions, the competition remained fierce.


    The stunning, honey-skinned women moved with flawless synchronicity to the music, exuding effortless cool. Some even playfully tossed their hair, engaging the audience with their magnetic stage presence.


    Sheng Quan watched with sparkling eyes, her delighted smile making it abundantly clear how much she adored the performance.


    Noticing the big boss¡¯s enthusiasm, the performers amped up their energy, dancing even more vivaciously.


    ¡ª¡ª¡°Doesn¡¯t she look like a Chinese emperor being seduced by beauties, neglecting her imperial duties?¡±


    ¡ª¡ª¡°I¡¯d bet anything that if this were ancient times, our Chairwoman Sheng would¡¯ve already made them her concubines.¡±


    Lane¡¯s voice sounded beside Gu Zhao, who frowned slightly and countered in his deep, resonant tone:


    ¡°Chairwoman Sheng has never neglected her responsibilities. Appreciating art is simply one of her hobbies.¡±


    ¡°And your analogy is both inappropriate and pointless.¡±


    The golden-haired, blue-eyed man merely chuckled, unfazed by his usually icy cousin¡¯s retort.


    ¡°Then why are you here? It makes sense for me to be called back from A-country to help, but you never leave your cave. What¡¯s your excuse?¡±


    Gu Zhao lifted the file in his hand. ¡°Delivering documents.¡±


    ¡°Tch. The major tasks are already handled, and these recent files aren¡¯t urgent. Any secretary could¡¯ve delivered them. Yet you insisted on coming yourself.¡±


    Gu Zhao remained expressionless. ¡°It¡¯s my break time. I have the right to go wherever I please.¡±


    Lane raised his hands in surrender. ¡°Fine, fine, your break time. Who knew our workaholic actually takes breaks now?¡±


    His gaze flicked to the item in Gu Zhao¡¯s other hand. ¡°Is that... bubble tea?¡±


    Ignoring him, Gu Zhao waited until the performance ended before stepping inside and handing the documents to Sheng Quan.


    Unbothered, Lane watched through the glass as Gu Zhao leaned down slightly to speak to Sheng Quan, who was seated in her chair, and then offered her the drink.


    Lip-reading, he caught Gu Zhao hesitating for a few seconds after Sheng Quan signed the papers before finally adding:


    ¡°They danced well. No wonder you liked it.¡±


    Lane couldn¡¯t help but snort in amusement, his usually flirtatious blue eyes now shimmering with genuine delight.


    How could he not be happy?


    His cousin, once trapped in the shadows of the past, was slowly but surely becoming more... alive.


    Wait¡ªwas that an insult?


    Eh, even if it was, it¡¯s not like Gu Zhao would leap over and punch him for it.


    Inside the room, Sheng Quan¡¯s eyes lit up at Gu Zhao¡¯s compliment about the U-country performers.


    ¡°Right? They were amazing! The stage presence was unreal. Too bad you missed the earlier group¡ªthey were even more impressive.¡±


    ¡°But no worries. Once Guoxinghai officially begins, you can catch their performances live.¡±


    Gu Zhao listened quietly before replying, ¡°Alright. I¡¯ll be there.¡±


    Sheng Quan blinked.


    Wait¡ªGu Zhao, the man who notoriously turned down every social invitation, just agreed to attend?


    Well, well. Progress.


    This stage was Sheng Quan''s biggest project, and she had long prepared to bring everyone together.


    When there''s excitement, it''s meant to be shared.


    Now with Gu Zhao joining in, the group was truly complete.


    Chairman Sheng took a sip of the strawberry-flavored milk tea Gu Zhao had brought¡ªher favorite¡ªand watched the performance, savoring the sheer joy of life.


    After enjoying the entire audition process, all the contestants had been selected and finalized.


    The large-scale holographic stage competition show, Guoxinghai, officially began filming.

 Chapter 114

    ¡¾What preparations have you made for the world''s first holographic stage?¡¿


    Nine hours before the Guoxinghai livestream, Sheng Quan''s devoted fan [Riding a Little Donkey] started this topic on Weibo.


    Instantly, countless replies poured in.


    ¡¾I carefully selected and savored the best instant noodles, bought eggs and sausages, chilled cola in the fridge, all ready to enjoy with Guoxinghai!¡¿


    ¡¾Already gathered with friends, but why does the holographic feature only activate during the stage? We even prepared our helmets!¡¿


    ¡¾What else can we watch in holographic mode daily? After all, holographic tech is still in its early stages. I heard just synchronizing one holographic stage costs hundreds of millions, and that''s just one stage. Imagine the budget for the entire show!¡¿


    ¡¾Agreed! Just having a holographic stage to watch is already amazing!¡¿


    The blogger Riding a Little Donkey promptly replied under the comment:


    ¡¾Holographic stages are just starting, yet they¡¯re already being streamed live to the polar regions for free, giving everyone an incredible experience. We should leave room for future improvements in holographic entertainment!¡¿


    His swift moderation drew laughter from longtime fans:


    ¡¾LOL Donkey rushing to control the narrative¡¿


    ¡¾HAHAHA you can tell Donkey is Boss Sheng''s number one supporter¡¿


    ¡¾All hail the Sheng dynasty!¡¿


    ¡¾Donkey, no need to explain¡ªwe¡¯re just joking around. Getting to experience holography at this age is already a dream come true!¡¿


    Indeed, at an age where they can still enjoy entertainment, the audience was immersed in an almost surreal happiness, thrilled by the prospect of diving into holographic worlds and soon witnessing a holographic stage.


    Even the most ordinary person, with a steady job and no mortgage or car loans, could afford to split the cost of a holographic helmet with friends¡ªit wasn¡¯t an unattainable goal.


    Many weren¡¯t even interested in idols; they were here purely for the holographic stage.


    At its core, it was about treating their eyes to something extraordinary.


    So, most of them didn¡¯t mind catching up on Guoxinghai, the talent show, before the holographic stage officially began¡ªjust to enhance the experience.


    Even before filming started, Guoxinghai¡¯s pre-registered viewership had already surpassed 150 million.


    Sure, there were duplicate registrations, but even accounting for that, the numbers were staggering.


    This wasn¡¯t the actual viewership¡ªjust pre-registrations. No other talent show in China, let alone globally, had ever seen such hype.


    Not even in P Country, where talent shows were as common as meals, did the top programs pull in these numbers during actual broadcasts.


    Now, some international contestants who¡¯d dismissed the show as too distant or doubted China¡¯s talent show scene were regretting their decision.


    How could they forget? China might¡¯ve had fewer stages before, but it had viewers in spades.


    Meanwhile, those who¡¯d joined and secured a spot were counting their blessings.


    "150 million... I can¡¯t even imagine over a billion people watching us."


    Out of nearly 100,000 auditions, only 300 male and 300 female contestants remained.


    These 600 were divided among 30 buses, rolling into the production site in an orderly line.


    On Tu Zhu¡¯s bus, a silver-haired foreign contestant was chattering excitedly in broken Mandarin to his seatmate:


    "Once the show airs, the numbers will skyrocket, right? The biggest show I¡¯ve been on only had 70 million viewers. Ugh, I wish we could use our phones¡ªI¡¯d love to see the live stats!"


    The talkative contestant, barely in his twenties, wasn¡¯t the youngest but was certainly the most vocal.


    After gushing about viewership, he gleefully smoothed down his uniform¡ªtailored by the production team with meticulous detail.


    "This outfit fits perfectly. Looks way better than my own clothes!"


    His red-haired Chinese teammate, who seemed rebellious but was patient with his chatty companion, nodded:


    "Mine fits just right too. Must¡¯ve been custom-made for us."


    He rubbed the high-quality fabric at his cuffs, visibly impressed:


    "These probably cost a fortune. Only Xingmang would go all out like this from the start."


    Other nervous contestants overheard and glanced down at their own uniforms, belatedly realizing how well the clothes flattered their figures and how comfortable they were.


    Even Tu Zhu quietly touched the finely crafted sleeve buttons. He¡¯d been on [I Love My Flight], where, like other shows, contestants got generic uniforms.


    But those were only superficially decent¡ªpoorly stitched, ill-fitting, and never tailored.


    Uniforms cost money, especially early on when most contestants would be eliminated quickly.


    Custom fits? In their dreams.


    What production team would splurge on bespoke outfits for hundreds of soon-to-be-cut contestants?


    So veterans like Tu Zhu had zero expectations. Some even packed needles and thread, ready to mend loose seams or missing buttons mid-filming¡ªor tweak the fit themselves if needed.


    The contestant beside Tu Zhu was one such pragmatist. After scrutinizing every visible stitch, he exhaled in relief, flashing sharp canine teeth that made him look even more boyish:


    "This is awesome! My seniors warned me we might need to alter our clothes, but we lucked out¡ªthese are top-tier!"


    Grinning, the canine-toothed contestant turned to Tu Zhu: "Hi, I¡¯m Tian Yuan¡ªstage name."


    Caught off guard, Tu Zhu paused before responding: "I¡¯m Tu Zhu."


    "I know you! I watched I Love My Flight¡ªyou were amazing! Can¡¯t believe we¡¯re on the same bus. So lucky!"


    Tu Zhu was momentarily overwhelmed by the sudden praise, unsure how to react. The last time he had laughed as brightly as Tian Yuan was years ago.


    But Tian Yuan didn¡¯t seem to care about Tu Zhu¡¯s response. After enthusiastically gushing for a while, his attention was quickly captured by something ahead:


    ¡°Ah! Is that the production team?! It¡¯s so huge!!¡±


    The bus slowly drove through the automatically opening gates into an expansive "manor."


    Tian Yuan could only describe it as a manor because, in a city like Shanghai, he had no other words for the stunning, sprawling buildings before him.


    Gasps of amazement erupted from many of the contestants¡ªyoung, exceptionally attractive individuals who pressed against the windows, eager to take in the view outside.


    ¡°We haven¡¯t even been on the road that long, right? Less than three hours.¡±


    ¡°The production team must¡¯ve spent a fortune. Filming right in Shanghai? The rent alone must be insane.¡±


    ¡°Just the location alone is worth a fortune. Ahhh, filming in Shanghai¡ªI¡¯ll have bragging rights for days after this!¡±


    The fact that the bus could drive smoothly within the production grounds spoke volumes about the sheer size of the place.


    Regardless of gender, experience, or age, every contestant in the bus was utterly awestruck.


    Then, the bus stopped.


    They were led to the largest building on the premises.


    It was breathtaking¡ªboth in beauty and scale. Among the 600 contestants, many had seen stages or concert venues before, but this structure dwarfed even the grandest of them.


    As the doors slowly opened, drones captured footage from above while the contestants, a mix of nervousness and excitement, filed in.


    They thought this was already the peak of surprises.


    Until the first contestant stepped inside and saw the lineup of mentors and guest judges turning to face them one by one.


    ¡°Ah¡ª!¡±


    The contestant froze on the spot, torn between shock and delight.


    The moment they had entered the manor¡¯s gates, the live broadcast had begun¡ªand the screen was instantly flooded with an explosion of comments.


    [Ahhhhhhh!!! Jin Jiu!!!!]


    [Hong Dou is a mentor!!! My Hong Dou!!!]


    [Am I hallucinating from work exhaustion or is that Jiang Zhen in the guest seats?! Ahhh, Jiang-ge still slays after all these months away!]


    [That¡¯s Jin Ke from P Nation! Ahhh, how did the show even get him?!]


    [And Sister Mei¡ªa top-tier industry queen!!!]


    [Director Xu Man is here too!!! Ahhh, Xu Man, your film Regret in Green had me sobbing the whole way through!!!]


    [Is that Hua Qing?! Even Hua Qing came?! What kind of godly lineup is this?!]


    [Wait, wait, wait¡ªwho¡¯s that?! Yan Hui!!!]


    One familiar name after another was shouted out. These were figures who, years ago, might¡¯ve been unknown but now symbolized fame and influence.


    With their skyrocketing popularity came packed schedules¡ªso much so that no one expected them to appear on a competition show like this.


    Yet here they were.


    Every single one of them.


    [My jaw just hit the floor. Ahhhh, are there any live audience tickets?! I need to be there! Or can we at least get a hologram stream of the mentors and guests?!]


    The mentor and guest lineup often determined the peak prestige of a competition show.


    Each ?????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????one¡¯s presence meant they were willing to leverage their influence and resources to support the contestants they favored¡ªor the eventual winners.


    And with them here, their fans would soon follow. Everyone could already imagine the tidal wave of attention about to hit.


    [Damn, I¡¯m suddenly so jealous of this season¡¯s contestants.]


    [What kind of heavenly starting point is this?! Ahhh, why couldn¡¯t my bias get this lucky?!]


    [LMAO, look at the contestant on the far right¡ªtheir face is so red it¡¯s practically a monkey¡¯s butt.]


    [Took me forever to find the ¡°monkey butt.¡± They¡¯re actually really cute, and the blush makes them even prettier. Who describes people like that?!]


    [Holy moly, the resources this season are insane. Even a tiny bit of support from any guest could be a game-changer.]


    [Wait! The center guest seat hasn¡¯t turned around yet¡ªwho is it, who is it?!]


    [All the biggest names from Starlight are here, plus internationally famous mentors... There¡¯s only one answer.]


    [This is the most important seat¡ªI think I know who it is!]


    [It can¡¯t be what I¡¯m imagining, right?! Please, please let it be true!]


    [Ahhhhhhh, I¡¯m begging¡ªit has to be them!!!]


    The 600 contestants filed in one by one. As the last person stepped inside, the doors closed, and dazzling lights illuminated the entire venue.


    The suspense reached its peak. The camera panned across the contestants¡¯ faces¡ªsome shocked, some nervous, some barely containing their excitement¡ªbefore finally landing on the guest seats.


    The center chair, which had remained turned away, slowly rotated to reveal...


    Boss Sheng, casually sipping juice, smiling at the camera.


    The contestants, who had guessed but didn¡¯t dare believe: ¡°!!!!¡±


    The internet, already in a frenzy: [!!!!]


    Ahhhhhhh!!!


    It¡¯s really him!!!


    [Boss Sheng!!!!!!]


    This show¡¯s resources just skyrocketed to the stratosphere!!!!

 Chapter 115

    "Honestly, this kind of entrance is a bit cliche?."


    Sheng Quan smiled at the camera, her words squeezed through gritted teeth to avoid lip-reading by the audience when the lens swept over her:


    "From what I know, ninety-nine out of a hundred mystery guests make their entrance like this."


    Yu Xiangwan took the juice glass from her hand with a soft chuckle, setting it aside before murmuring:


    "But only your entrance comes with a sky full of stars."


    And she was right. The moment Sheng Quan turned, the ceiling above exploded into a dreamy expanse of violet-blue starlight, as if tailored just for her.


    ¡ªWhoosh!


    Amid gasps from the contestants and viewers online¡ª


    Brilliant white light and gradient-colored "stars" descended against a smoky backdrop, their tails trailing radiant hues like shooting stars gently drifting downward.


    Though falling, they seemed to rush eagerly toward those below.


    As the young contestants on stage¡ªeach face exquisitely refined, coolly stylish, sunnily radiant, or breathtakingly beautiful¡ªreached out with slender fingers to catch the shimmering starlight, the moment brimmed with destiny.


    This screenshot would later be voted one of the top ten iconic moments in talent show history.


    Of course, such poetic descriptions were reserved for viewers who still remembered their literature classes.


    Most spectators, dazzled by the spectacle of the swirling galaxy on screen, had no time for elaborate adjectives. Their thoughts condensed into two words:


    "Holy crap!!!"


    [So beautiful it leaves me speechless¡ªI can feel the magic even through the screen!]


    [This is¡ª]


    [The colors are absolutely unreal, ahhh!!!]


    [Watching these contestants reach for the stars¡ªwho else gets it, who else?!]


    [I declare this the most stunning scene of any talent show this year!]


    [Won¡¯t say who¡¯s utterly mesmerized, but it¡¯s me!!!]


    [Ahhh, only my Queen Sheng could pull off an entrance like this!]


    The scene was indeed breathtaking. Even the judges and guests, who¡¯d known what was coming, couldn¡¯t help but lose themselves in it.


    Including Sheng Quan.


    When it came to treating her eyes to beauty, the Chairwoman never lagged behind. She reclined in her plush seat, savoring the grand finale of the starry descent.


    The moment was screenshot from every angle, every detail, flooding social media within minutes.


    Sheng Quan pulled out her phone¡ªyes, even at the live recording, this 10G-speed internet addict wouldn¡¯t fall behind.


    With the reflexes of a decade-long netizen, she swiftly picked the most beautifully composed shot.


    Most importantly, it captured everyone around her.


    Yan Hui gazed upward with a gentle smile. Jin Jiu cupped a shimmering star in his palms, awestruck. Hua Qing, with a star "landing" atop her head, turned to share a grin with Lin Aike. An Baixing mimed a money-grabbing dance at the sky while Yu Hongdou looked on, baffled.


    Jiang Zhen maintained his usual stoicism, though a faint curl of his lips betrayed him. Xu Man¡¯s eyes sparkled, her adoration plain, while Wan Bao giggled beside her.


    And Sheng Quan¡ªshe was at the center of it all.


    As she marveled at the celestial display, Yu Xiangwan turned to her with a rare, unreserved smile, his usual polished warmth replaced by pure joy.


    Jiang Lu, tall even seated, kept his eyes on Sheng Quan¡¯s smiling profile, his hand outstretched as if to catch the starlight drifting past her.


    To her left, Gu Zhao balanced a slim laptop on his knees, fingers flying across the keys.


    Wait.


    Hold on. Something didn¡¯t belong here.


    Sheng Quan saved the image and turned to him. "Aren¡¯t you on leave today?"


    "I¡¯m informing them to use this starry sky for this year¡¯s anniversary celebration."


    Sheng Quan: ?


    "You liked it?"


    Gu Zhao didn¡¯t seem the type to care for fleeting beauty.


    Sure enough, the CEO¡ªwhose "time off" only meant one loosened collar button¡ªreplied flatly: "You did, didn¡¯t you?"


    Sheng Quan: Of course.


    She gently closed his ever-present laptop. "No need. Something this beautiful is best seen just once."


    What she truly cherished was sharing this moment with the people she trusted¡ªand who trusted her in return.


    Also, let¡¯s be real: this spectacle cost a fortune. The holographic tech was cutting-edge, and every second of that starry sky burned cash.


    Were those falling stars? No, they were dollar bills.


    Only with the system¡¯s mission backing and the pre-planned holographic stage did she greenlight the "Guoxinghai" project.


    The decision paid off.


    The "Guoxinghai" segment in the show¡¯s premiere left everyone awestruck. Viewers screamed; contestants stood speechless.


    At the peak of their excitement, Jin Jiu spoke from the judges¡¯ panel.


    "Was that starry sky beautiful?"


    The contestants roared in unison: "YES!"


    Jin Jiu: "That was Starlight Entertainment¡¯s holographic stage technology in action¡ªour team showing you what it can do."


    "Dreamlike yet real, it amplifies every performer¡¯s strengths. So tell me¡ªdo you want to stand on that stage and shine?"


    Two sentences were enough to ignite the already electrified crowd.


    If the visuals alone were this stunning, imagine performing there live¡ª


    Another deafening reply: "YES!!"


    Sheng Quan watched Jin Jiu, who¡¯d once been a crushed bud on the verge of blooming, now guiding new flowers toward the light.


    In a university dorm, a girl shouldered her backpack and pushed open the door to find her three roommates huddled around a tablet.


    "Seriously, isn¡¯t it cramped? Why not use your phones?"


    "You¡¯re back!"


    Their eyes stayed glued to the screen as they greeted her. One waved her over eagerly:


    "Come quick! It just started¡ªthe best part¡¯s coming! I¡¯m freaking out!"


    "Ugh, forgot snacks. This would be perfection with munchies."


    "Quanzi, come here, we saved you a spot. Sit with us."


    The girl nicknamed Quanzi responded with clear reluctance:


    "That talent show you guys have been hyping up for days? No thanks. I''ll wait until the later episodes when most contestants get eliminated. The early rounds are always packed with mediocre performers¡ªit¡¯s painful to watch."


    Her roommate, struggling to tear her eyes away from the screen, turned around with a look that screamed, "What nonsense are you spouting?!"


    "Mediocre?! Since when did your taste become so warped?"


    Quanzi: "???"


    She wasn¡¯t new to talent shows. Sure, the eventual winners were usually outstanding, but the early rounds? Half the contestants seemed like filler.


    No looks, no talent¡ªjust watching them made her question how they even passed auditions.


    Most viewers didn¡¯t mind, since they only cared about the top performers. The rest were just background noise, easy to ignore.


    But Quanzi couldn¡¯t do that!


    She watched these shows to see stunning performers deliver breathtaking acts, not to endure a parade of awkward amateurs screeching on stage.


    After a few disappointing experiences, Quanzi learned her lesson: skip straight to the finals, where the real showdown between elite contestants happened. That was worth watching.


    "One show I watched had 200 contestants. At least 100 looked like they¡¯d been hit by a truck, and another 30 were obvious plastic surgery disasters. This new one has 600 contestants¡ªif even 100 are decent-looking, the producers deserve credit."


    "I refuse to subject myself to that trainwreck."


    She¡¯d initially been excited about Starlight Entertainment¡¯s new project, but the moment she heard about the 600-contestant lineup, she noped out.


    Idols were supposed to be the perfect blend of beauty and talent, not a numbers game. What a joke.


    As soon as she finished speaking, not just the roommate who¡¯d spoken to her, but the other two glued to their screens also turned to stare.


    Quanzi: "...What?"


    One roommate lifted her tablet, her voice dripping with disbelief: "You call these trainwrecks?!"


    Before Quanzi could protest, the screen flashed with a performer¡ªa radiant beauty wearing a mic, executing a flawless backbend before rising effortlessly, her vocals steady and smooth.


    Just as Quanzi¡¯s jaw dropped, the next contestant appeared: a mesmerizing man with an exotic flair, dressed in game-inspired attire that showcased his sculpted abs.


    Veiled with a gauzy fabric that teased his sharp jawline, he cradled a pipa and launched into a mid-air spin, every kick and gesture brimming with power.


    When his minute-long performance ended, his lingering gaze at the camera¡ªpleading not to be eliminated¡ªleft Quanzi internally screaming, "Keep him! Keep him!"


    But then a fierce, long-legged diva strutted onstage, her wild, captivating eyes making Quanzi instantly forget the previous contestant, lost in the sheer brilliance of her dance.


    Then another stunning man took the stage...


    At this point, Quanzi felt like an ancient emperor, spoiled for choice with a harem of gorgeous, multi-talented idols.


    "Wait¡ªthe show starts this strong? Don¡¯t they usually save the best for the finals?"


    Weren¡¯t these shows supposed to build momentum gradually?


    "And you said the first episode¡¯s live broadcast is five hours long. If they¡¯re going this hard from the start, what¡¯s left for later?"


    Roommates: "Those performers you just saw? They¡¯re average for this show."


    Quanzi: "..."


    Roommates: "Every contestant¡¯s one-minute performance is at that level¡ªsometimes even more jaw-dropping."


    Quanzi: "..."


    Roommates: "Joining us?"


    Quanzi: "..."


    She immediately squeezed into the group, digging out chips, chicken feet, sausages, and spicy strips from her bag, snuggling up to her roommates with glee:


    "I brought snacks! Let¡¯s watch together!"


    Similar scenes played out everywhere.


    Not everyone understood idol culture or stage performances, but most people had an eye for beauty.


    ¡ªIn a cozy living room, a father fetching water paused to scoff at his daughter, who was grinning dopefully at the TV.


    "Where did we go wrong raising such a silly girl... Hey! What¡¯s got you so hooked?"


    The girl waved him over: "Dad, come watch! It¡¯s amazing!"


    Father: "Yeah, right. Fine, let¡¯s see how ¡®amazing¡¯ it is."


    Five minutes later, the mother walked in to find father and daughter sprawled on the couch, identically starry-eyed.


    "Goodness, like two peas in a pod. What¡¯s so fascinating?"


    The pair turned in sync, beckoning excitedly¡ªjust like when they¡¯d discover a tasty street vendor years ago:


    "Come quick! You¡¯ve gotta see this!"


    ¡ªIn a room with a holographic projector, a family of four huddled together, laughing as the kids mimicked the dancers¡¯ moves, earning proud applause.


    ¡ªOverseas, an international student hunched over his laptop, engrossed in the livestream.


    His friend pushed the door open: "Wang, I brought beer¡ªwait, what are you watching?"


    Three minutes later, they were clinking bottles, eyes glued to the screen.


    "Contestant 124 is incredible! I¡¯m voting for him!"


    "I¡¯m picking 156¡ªshe deserves to stay! But her name¡¯s tricky. Wang, how do you pronounce it?"


    "Ran Die."


    "Ran~ ?????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????Die? What does it mean in Chinese?"


    "Think of it as... ¡®butterfly.¡¯"


    Far from home, "Wang" spent the day in perfect contentment.


    Meanwhile, Sheng Quan studied the skyrocketing viewership stats, a satisfied smile playing on her lips.


    Guoxinghai, first hour of premiere:


    View count¡ª370 million.


    This wasn¡¯t just breaking records.


    It was obliterating them.

 Chapter 116

    "370 million?!"


    The producers of rival talent shows airing at the same time as Guoxinghai nearly tore their hair out in disbelief:


    "That''s just the first day''s viewership¡ªnot a week, not a month! Even accounting for duplicate accounts and repeated clicks, nearly 400 million plays is absolutely insane!"


    It was worth noting that China''s viewership metrics had undergone government regulation eight years prior. Back then, entertainment programs had resorted to all kinds of exaggeration and manipulation to inflate numbers, even boasting tens of billions in viewership.


    But when the lies grew too outrageous, the state intervened, forcing the industry to clean up its act overnight. Since then, viewership numbers had returned to realistic levels. Even those who wanted to embellish their data only dared to quietly purchase a few legitimate clicks from bot farms.


    After the crackdown, programs with over 100 million total views could already be considered "top ten in the industry."


    And that was for total viewership.


    If someone had told this producer just a few months ago that a talent show would rack up 370 million views on its very first day, he would have laughed in their face and walked away, convinced they were delusional.


    But now, Ji Shan, the producer of Vote 188¡ªa competing show¡ªwas on the verge of a breakdown:


    "Isn''t this Guoxinghai''s first time running a talent show?! Even with a holographic stage, how could there possibly be so many young viewers nationwide?!"


    Ji Shan knew full well that whenever Guoxinghai released a new drama or film, competitors would quietly steer clear of its release window¡ªespecially in cinema, where scheduled films often shifted dates to avoid clashing with Guoxinghai''s blockbusters.


    Logically, with Guoxinghai making such a grand entrance into the talent show arena, his company should have avoided going head-to-head with it.


    The fact that they hadn¡¯t wasn¡¯t because the higher-ups had lost their minds¡ªthough, from Ji Shan¡¯s perspective, it might as well have been.


    They were simply gambling.


    Everyone knew Guoxinghai had an almost flawless track record. Its first foray into stage performances had already whipped audiences into a frenzy of anticipation.


    But anyone who had actually worked on a talent show knew how difficult they were to pull off. Market trends, screen time distribution among contestants, the challenge of coordinating large-scale productions¡ªit wasn¡¯t as simple as throwing a bunch of performers together and calling it a day.


    If Guoxinghai stumbled, rival shows could swoop in, absorbing its disenchanted audience while simultaneously trashing Guoxinghai and promoting themselves.


    Of course, it was still a risky move. Rumor had it that Sheng Quan had invested two billion into Guoxinghai. With that kind of money, even an ant could be turned into a giant.


    But greed was a powerful motivator. Some couldn¡¯t help but think¡ªwhat if?


    What if they got lucky?


    Sure, Sheng Quan had dominated TV dramas and ruled the box office for years, but this was her first time dipping into talent shows. Surely even the great Sheng Quan couldn¡¯t excel at everything?


    Turns out, she could.


    And she exceeded everyone¡¯s expectations.


    As Ji Shan imagined the impending reprimand from his superiors, he felt like calling an ambulance just to escape the stress. Such was the life of a corporate drone¡ªno say in decisions, but first in line to take the fall when things went wrong.


    Desperate to salvage his career, he forced a dry laugh and muttered to his subordinate:


    "High first-day viewership is normal for a new show. People just want to see what the hype¡¯s about. The real test is the second day¡ªlet¡¯s wait and see."


    The next day, Ji Shan stared at the screen displaying Guoxinghai''s updated numbers: 450 million views.


    For a moment, he wasn¡¯t sure whether to think, "This show actually looks pretty good¡ªmaybe I should start watching it myself," or "Should I resign now or wait to get fired?"


    Of course, these were just passing thoughts. While he did end up taking the blame, it wasn¡¯t severe enough to cost him his job. He was chewed out in meetings, had his bonus docked, and was reassigned to another position.


    After the meeting, his boss pulled him aside, patted him on the shoulder, and offered a stream of empty reassurances¡ªsomething about how "everyone understands the situation" and how his talents were still valued, promising to reinstate him once the dust settled.


    What could Ji Shan say? He could only grin and nod, declaring, "Of course, of course¡ªI live and die for the company. Taking the fall is my honor."


    Stepping out of the office, he faced a mix of pitying and amused glances from colleagues. No matter how bitter or humiliated he felt, he had to swallow it all and pretend it didn¡¯t faze him. The disappointment and heartache were his alone to bear.


    And then¡ªabruptly¡ªjust as he left the building, his phone rang.


    The caller was a stranger.


    By the time the call ended, Ji Shan¡¯s mind had gone completely blank:


    "You¡¯re inviting me to join Guoxinghai¡¯s production team?! Are you serious?!"


    "Yes, you may come to Guoxinghai headquarters for an interview. This is Wu Ying speaking."


    Sheng Quan walked into Chief Coordinator Wu Ying''s office carrying a cup of coffee. She gently knocked on the already open door. Wu Ying, who was on a phone call, looked surprised to see her and quickly gestured an "okay" while continuing her conversation.


    "Teacher Xing highly recommended you to me. We can discuss the specifics when you arrive on-site. Alright, I¡¯ll send you the address right away."


    After hanging up, she put down her phone and took the coffee Sheng Quan handed her. "Director Sheng, why are you the one delivering coffee?"


    "I happened to be in the break room, so I thought I¡¯d help Little Zhang with the errand."


    Little Zhang was usually responsible for handling miscellaneous tasks for the production team, including delivering coffee to the staff.


    Since the show officially began airing, Sheng Quan had watched as Little Zhang went from carrying coffee one bag at a time to pushing entire carts full of it. Now, the young man had leveled up to maneuvering multiple carts stacked neatly with coffee cups at once.


    ¡ªIt was a clear sign of just how much pressure the entire "Guoxinghai" team was under.


    After all, these past few days were just the prelude to the show, barely scratching the surface, yet the overwhelming attention it had drawn suggested it was poised to become the crown jewel of all talent shows.


    Because the response far exceeded expectations, many original plans had to be revised, and the workload instantly doubled. Led by Wu Ying, the production team was practically running nonstop.


    So, they urgently needed to hire more people.


    Wu Ying transferred Ji Shan¡¯s resume to Sheng Quan:


    "Ji Shan is highly skilled and has a steady personality. I¡¯ve already scheduled an interview with him, and we should be able to finalize things by this afternoon."


    Along with Ji Shan¡¯s documents, several other candidates¡¯ resumes were also pushed toward Sheng Quan¡ªall of them top-tier professionals capable of coordinating large-scale projects like this.


    Sheng Quan skimmed through them with a smile. "You handle it. I trust your judgment."


    Wu Ying felt a warmth in her heart. "Thank you for your trust, Director Sheng. I¡¯ll do my best to fill these critical new positions properly."


    In reality, when the "Guoxinghai" project was first planned, the number of staff Sheng Quan approved had initially struck many as excessive.


    Though it was a big project, the maximum number of contestants was only 600¡ªhardly enough to justify such a large team.


    But at Xingmang, Director Sheng¡¯s word was law. Even though some thought it was a waste of resources, they figured they could always cut back once things got underway, so the plan was eventually approved.


    Now, not only was there no need to reduce staff, they actually needed to hire even more people.


    Wu Ying never voiced these thoughts aloud, but privately, her admiration for Sheng Quan only grew.


    Many of her friends and classmates envied her job¡¯s salary, benefits, and career prospects, but what she considered her greatest luck was having Director Sheng as her boss.


    Though Director Sheng rarely micromanaged the company¡¯s operations, when it came to major decisions, she never made a wrong call.


    Sheng Quan: Well, actually, I just have the luxury of being reckless with money.


    Her nature leaned slightly toward caution¡ªover-preparing never hurt. And more often than not, that extra preparation paid off when it mattered most.


    Since she had two billion at her disposal, she could afford to hire ten times the staff if needed. So why not be overprepared?


    Of course, Sheng Quan¡¯s contingency plans weren¡¯t limited to just staffing.


    "So many photographers?!"


    "So many lighting technicians?!"


    "So many makeup artists?!!!"


    Ji Shan couldn¡¯t stop looking around in awe as he toured the production set.


    Now he understood why every contestant on "Guoxinghai" looked absolutely flawless. With this level of meticulous, all-around preparation, even an average person could be polished into looking like a minor heartthrob¡ªlet alone the already outstanding contestants!


    He even recognized several big names in the industry. That photographer over there¡ªwasn¡¯t that the notoriously hard-to-book Miss Wang?


    And those makeup artists were absolute legends in the field, yet here they were, huddled together discussing how to perfect stage makeup to highlight each contestant¡¯s strengths.


    After taking it all in, Ji Shan fully grasped why "Guoxinghai" had exploded in popularity like never before: Xingmang was essentially producing a talent show with the same precision and quality as a blockbuster film.


    Audiences weren¡¯t blind¡ªthey could tell, and they were responding accordingly.


    The only thing he couldn¡¯t figure out was how Xingmang had managed to gather the absolute best in every field of the entertainment industry for a single talent show.


    It was nothing short of a miracle.


    Wu Ying remained completely unfazed throughout the tour. Only after Ji Shan had marveled at everything¡ªeven praising the trees lining the set for their photogenic elegance¡ªdid she finally pull out the contract she¡¯d prepared in advance.


    Ji Shan hesitated. "I¡¯m still a bit unsure about switching jobs. I might need some more time to think it over..."


    Wu Ying smiled. "No problem, Teacher Ji. Take your time. In the meantime, would you like to review the contract?"


    Ji Shan took the contract and stared at it, his gaze freezing in place.


    The salary... how much was this... Holy crap, this much?!


    Wu Ying continued, "Teacher Ji, what do you think of the contract? If there¡¯s anything you¡¯re not satisfied with, we can discuss adjustments."


    Ji Shan: "..."


    Slowly, very slowly, he swallowed.


    Ji Shan: Now I finally understand why so many big names are willing to come here.


    He cleared his throat lightly. "Ahem, it¡¯s good, really good. I¡¯ll take my leave now."


    "I can see the production team is quite busy, so I¡¯ll go straight to my current company to complete the resignation process and start working here tonight."


    "I already have an idea in mind¡ªI¡¯ll draft it on the way and send it to your email. Let¡¯s aim to get our show¡¯s viewership to 600 million!"


    The contestants had no idea the production team was aggressively recruiting.


    The 600 participants were split over two days, each performing for one minute before being assigned to their dormitories to rest. The initial dorm setup was four to a room, with the groupings pre-arranged by the production team.


    Everything seemed perfectly normal¡ªuntil they left the venue and temporary lodgings for the dorms and encountered a massive crowd of cameramen.


    The less experienced contestants buzzed with excitement, some even striking poses for the cameras. Meanwhile, those who had participated in other shows were stunned.


    "I¡¯ve been on Leap Singing¡ªa huge production¡ªand even they only had twenty cameramen in total," Ming Qin couldn¡¯t stop glancing at the cameramen lining both sides of the path and ahead, whispering to her roommate.


    "Just walking this stretch, we¡¯ve already passed at least forty cameramen, and that¡¯s just on this route."


    Her sharp-eyed roommate tsked in amazement after a few glances.


    "They¡¯re using Io cameras¡ªthose are famously high-quality but insanely expensive. I couldn¡¯t afford one even if I pooled all my savings, but Guoxinghai¡¯s crew has one for every cameraman!"


    Another roommate, confused, quickly asked, "Is that a good thing?"


    "Of course it¡¯s a good thing! These cameras are ridiculously good at capturing people. And look at the lighting crew¡ªtheir positioning and numbers mean the footage will be flawless."


    After all, they¡¯d joined the show for screen time. With this many people dedicated to filming them, how could they worry about not getting enough exposure?


    Ming Qin nodded in agreement. "Absolutely, lighting makes all the difference."


    Many talent shows barely bothered with proper lighting or makeup for the average contestants early on, focusing only on the already-famous ones and leaving the rest as mere background.


    Ming Qin wasn¡¯t famous¡ªshe¡¯d been on two shows before, always the one meant to make others shine.


    Sure, it had stung, but that¡¯s just how the industry worked. If you hadn¡¯t made it big, you got what you got.


    When she signed up for Guoxinghai, she¡¯d only hoped to make a brief appearance. Just being on a show like this was more than enough for her, and she¡¯d braced herself to play the supporting role again.


    But to her surprise, the moment she entered, she was floored by the sheer number of makeup artists Guoxinghai had.


    Other shows typically skimped on makeup artists, forcing one artist to handle dozens of contestants, leading to rushed, inconsistent work.


    That¡¯s why the already-famous contestants stood out more¡ªthey often brought their own makeup artists, leaving the rest to share subpar resources.


    For the average contestant, ending up on camera with a botched look was just part of the deal.


    Yet Guoxinghai ensured every contestant had ample time with a makeup artist. Before stepping onstage, Ming Qin nearly cried when she saw her radiant reflection in the mirror.


    ¡ªThen she and the makeup artist frantically dabbed tissue paper under her eyes to blot away tears that might ruin her makeup.


    Even right before her performance, the makeup artist was still tweaking details, making sure she looked her absolute best.


    Ming Qin didn¡¯t let her down¡ªshe delivered her one-minute performance flawlessly.


    In that moment, without a phone, she had no idea viewers were flooding the comments with "Is that Ming Qin? She looks stunning!" or that her pitifully small follower count on Weibo was steadily climbing.


    All she felt was gratitude¡ªgratitude for joining this show.


    And now, seeing the overwhelming number of cameramen and lighting technicians along the way, that gratitude was reaching its peak.


    "By the way, what¡¯s next for us?"


    The fourth roommate, who¡¯d been silent until now, spoke up: "Learning choreography under the mentors¡¯ guidance."


    "In three days, we¡¯ll perform on the holographic stage for the first time, and the audience will cast their first votes."


    Ming Qin glanced at Tu Zhu, her quiet but magnetically eye-catching roommate, feeling a little flustered by the attention.


    This was Tu Zhu we were talking about. Sure, he had a lot of haters, but the combined fame of the three of them still couldn¡¯t measure up to his.


    Ming Qin felt the thrill of "I¡¯ve just met a celebrity," but he mustered up his courage and extended an invitation to Tu Zhu:


    "Then how about the four of us practice together later?"


    If this were any other show, he might not have been so forward. After all, survival programs were all about fighting for screen time, and teaming up with someone more attractive and famous than you usually didn¡¯t end well.


    But the fair treatment from the production team had put him at ease.


    Without unfairness, there was little room for resentment or other negative emotions. Faced with someone as undeniably talented as Tu Zhu, he was more than willing to extend a friendly hand.


    Tu Zhu stared at his roommate, who had just invited him, hardly able to believe it.


    During his last survival show, everyone had been polite on the surface, but beneath it all, he¡¯d keenly sensed the subtle undercurrents of exclusion and dislike.


    Even ?????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????though it was only their first day together, the hostility had been palpable. Back then, except when he was on stage, he¡¯d often found himself wondering, "Do people really hate me that much?"


    And that thought had only grown heavier after his fall from grace.


    But now, he realized all three of his roommates were looking at him with nothing but warmth in their eyes.


    Tu Zhu felt a mix of timidity and quiet joy.


    In the past, he would¡¯ve hesitated, reluctant to accept. But now, remembering the approving smile Sheng Quan had given him during auditions, he lowered his gaze slightly and nodded. "Okay."


    "Great! Let¡¯s go then! Just so you know, I¡¯m amazing at learning choreography! But I¡¯m slow, so don¡¯t get impatient with me!"


    "Really? Perfect! I¡¯m terrible at it¡ªtake me with you!"


    The most lively of the four immediately wedged himself between the others, slinging his arms awkwardly over their shoulders. "Not to brag, but I¡¯m pretty good at picking up dances too! How about we make it a little competition later?"


    "Deal! Let¡¯s do it!!"


    The friendships of youth always came on fast and fierce, especially since Sheng Quan had handpicked three cheerful, talkative roommates for Tu Zhu.


    With three social butterflies in one room, the conversation quickly jumped from "the competition" to "outfit changes" to "what¡¯s the best fabric for underwear" and finally landed on "which place serves the best hot pot."


    Tu Zhu lingered at the edge of the group, letting himself be swept along as he listened to his roommates¡¯ lively chatter. He stayed quiet, not interjecting, just following.


    But as the young man walked beside them, the heaviness in his eyes gradually gave way to a faint sparkle¡ªone that belonged to someone his age.


    Slowly, almost imperceptibly, his footsteps grew lighter too.

 Chapter 117

    After all the contestants settled into their dormitories, nearly everyone shared the same thought as Tu Zhu and his roommates¡ªthe moment they finished unpacking, they dashed straight to the dance practice room.


    Even those who hadn¡¯t initially considered this idea couldn¡¯t resist joining the rush when they saw others heading there, thinking, If everyone¡¯s going and I don¡¯t, won¡¯t I fall behind? And so, the frenzy spread.


    Six hundred contestants sprinting towards the same location, while a drone camera captured the scene for a live broadcast set to rousing, high-pitched BGM¡ªit had viewers watching the livestream in stitches.


    Those watching on TV managed to keep their composure, but those on computers or phones scrolling through the live chat saw the screen flooded with: ¡¾HAHAHAHAHA¡¿


    ¡¾Holy moly, this angle¡ªit¡¯s like a zombie apocalypse!¡¿


    ¡¾No idea why, but I¡¯m laughing so hard I¡¯m rolling around on my bed¡¿


    ¡¾Why does this BGM make it even funnier? That male vocalist is killing me¡¿


    ¡¾LMAO, they look like chickens hearing the dinner bell at a poultry farm¡¿


    ¡¾My grandma raises chickens¡ªcan confirm, this is EXACTLY how they act at feeding time¡¿


    ¡¾HAHAHAHA how did they make this both visually stunning and hilarious?¡¿


    Sheng Quan was also watching the livestream, laughing along with the audience while checking the viewership numbers across platforms for Guoxinghai.


    ¡ªIt was higher than expected.


    Like most talent shows, Guoxinghai opted for a format of 24/7 live broadcasting during filming, followed by edited recorded episodes.


    The advantage of this model was that it offered viewers an abundance of footage, maximizing the potential to attract new audiences.


    However, livestreams lacked the polish of recordings, often including mundane, trivial moments that viewers might find unnecessary.


    Even if the director worked hard to select the most entertaining clips, with 24 hours of footage, there were bound to be dull stretches¡ªand that was when viewers would quietly drop off.


    Yet, clearly, Guoxinghai was managing to retain its high viewership because audiences found it worth sticking around for.


    On forums, a thread explaining the pros and cons of livestreaming in talent shows had many users happily sharing their joy in following Guoxinghai.


    The top-voted comment perfectly captured the sentiment of the show¡¯s fans:


    ¡¾First, every contestant is drop-dead gorgeous, each with their own unique charm and zero bad angles. No matter where the camera points, they¡¯re all ridiculously good-looking¡ªhow could I possibly look away?


    I know focusing on looks sounds shallow, but they¡¯re future idols! What else am I supposed to judge them on?


    Second, although each contestant only performed for a minute, their dancing was dazzling. I''m no expert, so I can''t give a professional critique, but if other shows are about picking the tallest dwarf, Guoxinghai is a room full of supermodels vying for the top spot.


    And third¡ªits daily content is NEVER boring!


    Past talent shows¡¯ livestreams just recycled the same old stuff, so of course viewers got bored. Guoxinghai is different. It¡¯s only been three days, but every single minute has been worth watching!


    Just seeing these beautiful people introduce themselves and interact is pure entertainment. Don¡¯t you think a group of stunning men and women together is inherently enjoyable?


    Even without performances right now, watching them scramble like chickens is hilarious.


    Plus, you can tell the production team has gone all out¡ªeven their downtime is filmed with care.


    If I didn''t have to work, I''d binge this nonstop! Oh, mighty CEO Sheng, Goddess of Entertainment! Bless Guoxinghai to maintain this quality and give us many more episodes! Don''t let it end too soon!


    Sheng Quan, who had been browsing the forum and only saw the last line after liking the post: ?


    Goddess ?????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????of Entertainment?


    So cringey... but she liked it.


    The Goddess of Entertainment, CEO Sheng, couldn¡¯t promise more episodes, but she could offer fans some extra perks.


    For instance, right now, these contestants¡ªwhose average age was around nineteen and a half¡ªhad been asked to remove their makeup.


    At that age, their skin was naturally flawless, and without makeup, they exuded a fresh, clean-cut beauty distinct from their stage personas.


    A few even looked better bare-faced, instantly gaining a wave of fans obsessed with their looks.


    Because the show didn¡¯t require full makeup at all times, most of these lively young contestants felt free to sprint like Olympians without worrying about sweat ruining their looks.


    This also worked in the show¡¯s favor¡ªas a voting-based program, the more ¡°real¡± the contestants appeared, the more invested the audience became.


    Tu Zhu, however, wasn¡¯t the lively type.


    He¡¯d originally planned to walk at his own pace, but before he knew it, his three kind-hearted roommates had hoisted him into a full-speed dash.


    As they ran, they cheered, ¡°Don¡¯t worry, Tu Zhu! If you¡¯re slow, we¡¯ll carry you!¡±


    Tu Zhu, feet instinctively hitting the ground mid-air as he was dragged along: ¡°......¡±


    He didn¡¯t even get a chance to explain before the three speedsters hauled him to the destination.


    When the contestants finally reached the dance practice room the cameraman had directed them to, they froze at the sight of the massive building before them.


    The viewers were equally stunned.


    This is a dance practice room?


    More like a dance practice palace!


    ¡°That¡¯s right. This building is indeed called the Dance Practice Palace.¡±


    The contestants, hesitating at the entrance, jumped at the sudden voice.


    ¡°Who said that?!¡±


    The camera panned toward the palace¡¯s grand doors as a melodic flute played. Then, a pair of ancient-style boots stepped over the threshold with dramatic flair.


    The next moment, everyone saw a figure clad in a black-and-gold embroidered cloak, crowned with a jade-white hairpiece, standing tall and regal¡ª


    ¡ªonly for the camera to reveal... a giant lobster.


    Contestants: ¡°......¡±


    Viewers: ¡°......¡±


    Instantly, the screen exploded with ¡¾HAHAHAHAHA¡¿.


    ¡¾A LOBSTER. I CAN¡¯T¡ª¡¿


    ¡¾The camera work is genius¡ªfirst the expensive-looking hairpiece, then the lavish robes, and BAM. Lobster.¡¿


    ¡¾HAHAHAHA the production team really knows how to play us¡¿


    The man in the lobster costume, utterly unfazed by the contestants¡¯ stunned laughter, spoke in a deep, magnetic voice from inside the headpiece:


    ¡°I am the Dance Palace Master. You may call me... the Dance Lord.¡±


    ¡°Here in Guoxinghai, dance practice is no simple matter. A true dancer must not only possess formidable skill but also the ability to appreciate their peers.¡±


    While the contestants were still processing this, the viewers had already caught on.


    Oho! Is this where the nominations begin?!


    Sure enough, the Dance Lord continued:


    ¡°Each of you will receive a sheet of paper and a pen. Based on everyone¡¯s one-minute performances earlier, you must all select the contestant you believe danced the best.¡±


    After a pause, he added, "Of course, you can''t vote for yourself."


    The contestants who had been listening quietly burst into laughter, instantly lightening the atmosphere.


    The waiting staff quickly stepped forward to distribute paper and pens, their movements swift and efficient.


    Speed¡ªthis was the most common state for the staff of Guoxinghai, as they were always swamped with work. Precisely because the current situation was so promising, they strived for even greater precision.


    Of course, with bonuses dangling ahead, a little extra effort was well worth it.


    The contestants either whispered among themselves or pondered deeply, but eventually, they all wrote down names on their papers.


    [Based on my experience, the contestant with the most votes should get an extra reward.]


    [Who is it, who is it, who is it?!]


    [Among the female contestants, I think it¡¯ll be Ge Ling! When Ge Ling dances on stage, she¡¯s as beautiful as a fairy.]


    [I think among the male contestants, it¡¯ll be Jin Yuan from P Country¡ªhe¡¯s so famous, and his stage presence is explosive. If I were a contestant, I¡¯d definitely vote for him.]


    [Am I the only one who thinks Tu Zhu danced really well? His expressiveness was absolutely stunning.]


    [Tu Zhu really is surprising. I always thought he lacked ability.]


    [It probably won¡¯t be Tu Zhu¡ªhis reputation is so bad.]


    [Ahhhh, rooting for my favorite!]


    While the dance host tallied the votes... honestly, it was no small task. Six hundred people meant six hundred votes, even if separated by gender.


    Fortunately, he had helpers¡ªa group of children around ten years old, wearing little lobster headgear with their tiny faces peeking out.


    The adorable outfits briefly distracted the barrage of comments, shifting to exclamations like:


    ["Aww, these kids are so cute!"], ["Is the production team hiring child labor to melt our hearts?"], and ["They actually brought in little kids?"].


    With the children¡¯s help, the votes were quickly sorted into piles, with three stacks noticeably taller than the rest.


    Even though they knew this was just a small game, seeing the results made the previously relaxed contestants hold their breaths in nervous anticipation.


    No matter how slim the odds, nearly everyone secretly hoped they might be the winner.


    The dance host, holding a lobster-shaped pouch, said, "Judging by your expressions, you must know the top-voted contestants get a reward."


    "That¡¯s right. We¡¯ll select the three contestants with the highest votes. These three will get the largest practice rooms in the dance hall¡ªand they can share them with their teammates."


    "Of course, since team assignments haven¡¯t started yet, it¡¯s up to the winners to decide who they want to share with."


    Backstage, Yu Xiangwan watched the live broadcast on the large screen and turned to Sheng Quan beside her. "Isn¡¯t this rule a bit cliche??"


    Sheng Quan smiled at the screen. "Cliche?, but effective."


    A large practice room was enough to excite any contestant.


    More space and time for practice? No contestant would turn that down.


    Naturally, this rule had been pushed through by Sheng Quan herself...


    It had to be said, the professional mentors hired at great expense were incredibly dedicated. Dividing six hundred contestants among a dozen mentors was no small pressure.


    Yet, based on their expertise, they evaluated and provided feedback for every contestant.


    Of course, the contestants weren¡¯t aware of this¡ªthe mentors would use these assessments to guide and train them toward better performances.


    In Tu Zhu¡¯s evaluation, nearly every mentor noted the same flaw: excessive self-doubt.


    A little insecurity in an ordinary person might not be a big deal¡ªjust occasional unhappiness due to low self-esteem.


    But an idol cannot be insecure.


    Stage presence and charisma are everything. Someone who doubts themselves can¡¯t boldly showcase their full potential¡ªa fatal flaw on stage.


    Sheng Quan didn¡¯t need to intervene directly. In fact, for someone as insecure as Tu Zhu, excessive external help might backfire.


    ¡ªShe just needed to make Tu Zhu see himself clearly.


    On screen, the dance host rattled off the results without any dramatic pauses or fake hesitation. He simply walked to the table, picked up the top sheets from the three tallest stacks, and announced:


    "Female contestants: First place, Lan He; second place, Qing Tian; third place, PB."


    "Male contestants: First place, Jin Yuan; second place, Tu Zhu; third place, Wu Xiangwang."


    He spoke so fast it sounded like a rap.


    The contestants: "..."


    The audience: "..."


    [Wait, that¡¯s it? He just announced it like that?]


    [This is so against the usual script!]


    [Shouldn¡¯t he have dragged it out, teasing the audience and contestants before revealing the names?]


    [Ge Ling didn¡¯t even make top three?!]


    [He¡¯s so fast I thought he was rushing to clock out.]


    [Matches my guess. Even though this season¡¯s contestants are strong, the truly exceptional ones still stand out.]


    [Tu Zhu?! It¡¯s actually Tu Zhu! That¡¯s Tu Zhu we¡¯re talking about!]


    [Let¡¯s be real, Tu Zhu was amazing in that one-minute performance.]


    The comments exploded again. Meanwhile, in the studio, Tu Zhu¡ªwho had been standing quietly with his usual slightly downcast gaze¡ªjolted upon hearing his name.


    He didn¡¯t snap his head up immediately.


    Instead, he lifted it slowly, as if afraid any sudden movement would shatter the dream, and stared disbelievingly at the dance host who had just read the six names.


    Honestly, even through the screen, Sheng Quan found his expression heartbreaking.


    Anyone could see he never expected to be among the winners.


    His three extroverted roommates erupted in cheers, slinging their arms around Tu Zhu¡¯s shoulders as if ready to break into a celebratory pole dance on the spot.


    Tu Zhu, meanwhile, remained blank-faced, letting them sway him left and right.


    The audience¡¯s reaction shifted after seeing Tu Zhu¡¯s demeanor.


    [Tu Zhu¡¯s eyes look like my puppy¡¯s after being scolded.]


    [Tu Zhu didn¡¯t expect to win¡ªhow? He was the champion of I Love My Flight!]


    [It¡¯s hard to stay confident when you¡¯re constantly criticized.]


    [LOL, Tu Zhu¡¯s dazed expression is oddly charming.]


    [His roommates¡¯ joy is practically radiating off them.]


    [The camera pans to Jin Yuan¡ªhe¡¯s psyching himself up. Then to Wu Xiangwang¡ªhe looks determined. But when it lands on Tu Zhu, it¡¯s like three hyper huskies dragging a confused samoyed around.]


    [This scene¡ªTu Zhu and his roommates are like three huskies barking "Play! Play!" at a bewildered samoyed.]


    Three huskies and their samoyed friend... Hahahaha, what a perfect description.


    Sheng Quan nearly died laughing.


    Tu Zhu, still trapped in his "What do I even do now?" stupor, was unconsciously bouncing along with his roommates.


    ¡ª¡ªHe was bouncing around without even knowing why he was bouncing.


    "The mastermind" Sheng Quan: Hahahahahahaha!


    Even though she had anticipated this when assigning Tu Zhu roommates, it was still hilarious. Hahahaha!


    Next came the moment when the winner could choose their teammates.


    Tu Zhu held the key, and as he turned around, it was as if he caught a glimpse of his confident, unrestrained self from two years ago.


    The dance tower host asked him, "Congratulations to this contestant! Now, the big question is¡ªdo you have someone you''d like to share your super-duper-large dance studio with?"


    Tu Zhu¡¯s gaze immediately landed on his three roommates.


    Even though they had only known each other for a few days.


    The young man¡¯s eyes always carried a hint of melancholy he couldn¡¯t quite explain, but now, he made an effort to look at his roommates and said:


    "I want to share the dance studio with my three roommates."


    Backstage.


    ¡ªSheng Quan listened to Tu Zhu¡¯s answer and, though unsurprised, couldn¡¯t help but smile happily for him.


    "Ahhh!!!"


    "Tu Zhu, you¡¯re the best!!!"


    The three huskies, as if blessed by a heavenly reward, immediately sprinted over in excitement, hugging him and breaking into an impromptu tap dance on the spot.


    "Ahhhh thank you!!!!"


    "Super-duper-large dance studio! Here we come!!! Tu Zhu, I love you!!!"


    Once again, Tu Zhu¡ªslow to react¡ªwas pulled into the celebration, looking utterly dazed. His exquisitely ethereal face seemed to ask in bewilderment:


    ¡ªWhy am I bouncing around again?


    But... it felt kind of nice.

 Chapter 118

    After just a few days of live streaming on Guoxinghai, Tu Zhu''s fans were pleasantly surprised to notice something different¡ªunlike his usual terrible reputation where he was criticized everywhere, the audience of this show was gradually warming up to him.


    Friendly comments about Tu Zhu began appearing in the bullet chats:


    "Tu Zhu looks a bit dorky, but it''s kinda cute."


    "Didn¡¯t expect Tu Zhu to be so soft-spoken in real life. I thought he¡¯d be more arrogant."


    "Wow, Tu Zhu is so short¡ªhe looks tiny!"


    "Hahaha, it¡¯s just that his three roommates are all super tall. Plus, Tu Zhu¡¯s only eighteen, he¡¯s still growing!"


    "He¡¯s ?????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????an amazing dancer, just a little quiet usually."


    "Every time I see Tu Zhu interacting with his roommates, I can¡¯t help but laugh¡ªit¡¯s so wholesome!"


    At this early stage, most viewers were still cautiously observing the contestants, so it wasn¡¯t like a sudden wave of praise like "Tu Zhu is amazing, Tu Zhu is the best, Tu Zhu is perfect!" would appear. At most, the comments simply showed a slight fondness, with no outright dislike for him.


    But even this small shift was enough to send Tu Zhu¡¯s fans into a frenzy! They thanked the heavens, the earth, President Sheng, and Guoxinghai itself.


    For a long time, they had witnessed Tu Zhu being bashed no matter what he did¡ªor didn¡¯t do. His company never stepped in to protect him, and controlling public opinion was unheard of, which only worsened the situation. Even something as trivial as "a fellow male artist¡¯s plant died"¡ªcompletely unrelated to Tu Zhu¡ªcould spark outrage. Haters would dig up a two-year-old photo of him watering a plant and accuse him:


    "Tu Zhu killed that plant! Tu Zhu is evil, he deserves divine punishment!"


    Fans who saw Tu Zhu¡¯s Weibo flooded with hate could only react with: "..."


    It sounded absurd, but this was the reality Tu Zhu had endured.


    Leaving behind the stage¡ªhis comfort zone¡ªto venture into acting, an industry where he struggled and only attracted more hate, without any protection from his company, he was like a target for anyone to take shots at.


    Sure, the phrase "Even if my idol stands against the whole world, I¡¯ll always support him" sounds romantic and heroic, but what fan actually wants their idol to be abandoned by the world?


    What they loved was the radiant, shining Tu Zhu.


    And it wasn¡¯t like they were blind¡ªhis fans could see how the constant negativity was slowly dimming his spirit.


    Now, any true fan watching the livestream could tell he was slowly "coming back to life."


    Tu Zhu¡¯s fans were so overjoyed they could hardly believe it. The fanbase, once scattered and demoralized by endless defeats, was regrouping.


    Veteran fans reminded everyone in the group chats:


    "When watching Guoxinghai, don¡¯t hype up Tu Zhu by putting others down."


    "His reputation is just starting to improve¡ªwe have to be extra careful not to ruin the goodwill."


    "The show is treating him well. Let¡¯s just quietly support him."


    "But also, make sure the show knows we care! If they see Tu Zhu¡¯s popularity rising, they¡¯ll give him more screen time!"


    Yes, the fans believed Tu Zhu was being well taken care of by the production team.


    A person¡¯s state of mind¡ªwhether they¡¯re happy in their environment¡ªcan be seen clearly in their demeanor and daily habits.


    Tu Zhu was still quiet, still kept his head down, still retreated to corners to practice lyrics and choreography alone.


    But now, he was starting to invite his roommates to train together. His appetite in the cafeteria was improving, and he even saved seats for them during dance classes.


    These changes were subtle, and casual viewers might not notice yet. But Tu Zhu¡¯s fans, hidden among the audience, watched with delight as the boy they loved¡ªthe one who shone brightest on stage¡ªsmiled more and more each day.


    Then, they¡¯d quietly blend into the bullet chats with messages like:


    "The meat looks delicious today¡ªTu Zhu, eat up! You look even cuter with a little more weight!"


    Right after this comment was posted, Tu Zhu, who had been silently munching on his food, was poked by his roommate Meng Wei.


    The young man looked up, confused.


    Meng Wei: "Tu Zhu, have you gained weight?"


    "Yeah! Your face looks rounder!" Another roommate, mid-bite, nodded vigorously. "Definitely chubbier."


    Tu Zhu touched his face. "Really?"


    "Yes!"


    Ming Qin chimed in: "Let¡¯s weigh ourselves after eating."


    Ten minutes later¡ª


    Tu Zhu stood on the scale, staring blankly at the number showing he had gained five pounds since joining the show.


    His usually delicate, ethereal face was now filled with deep bewilderment.


    Jing Tiangao, loud as ever, exclaimed: "You gained FIVE POUNDS?!"


    Ming Qin patted his sturdy arm. "Tu Zhu¡¯s still growing. Five pounds is normal."


    Jing Tiangao, ever the blunt one, countered: "But we¡¯ve only been here four days."


    Tu Zhu, cheeks rosy, hair glossy, clearly thriving, could only respond with: "..."


    Viewers watching the livestream nearly died laughing.


    "HAHAHAHAHA FIVE POUNDS IN FOUR DAYS"


    "Thanks, Tu Zhu. I feel better about gaining five pounds in a month now."


    "Stop laughing, guys! He¡¯s still growing¡ªrapid weight gain is totally normal HAHAHAHAHA"


    "The one saying ¡®stop laughing¡¯ is laughing the loudest, I can¡¯t¡ª"


    "Jing Tiangao¡¯s reaction is meme-worthy. I¡¯m dead."


    "Jing Tiangao: buff dude in shock.jpg"


    "How good is the show¡¯s food?! An idol gaining five pounds in four days? I¡¯m deceased."


    President Sheng was also eating, though of course, she wasn¡¯t in the contestants¡¯ cafeteria. Today, she decided to treat herself to an expensive but incredibly delicious restaurant.


    The high price was justified¡ªsince the filming location was a bit far (though only a two-to-three-hour drive), the chef and assistants arrived with fresh ingredients to prepare an exquisite feast on-site.


    President Sheng multitasked like a pro: eating, watching the livestream on her tablet, and reading a novel on her phone.


    At this scene, she even paused her meal to type: "HAHAHAHAHA."


    After sending it, she marveled: "You know what? Even with five extra pounds, he looks even better."


    "Too bad they won¡¯t be seeing dishes like braised pork in the cafeteria anymore."


    As she spoke, she took a bite of the tender, glistening braised pork with her rice, savoring the melt-in-your-mouth richness with satisfaction.


    Many wealthy executives President Sheng knew were meticulous about their diets¡ªthe richer they were, the more they focused on nutrition and avoided carbs to prevent sluggishness.


    However, many wealthy individuals, even after making their fortunes, don¡¯t force themselves to change their eating habits. They eat what they enjoy, as long as it doesn¡¯t harm their health.


    Sheng Quan clearly belonged to the latter category.


    She still occasionally indulged in snacks like potato chips and spicy strips. Though she was somewhat of a public figure, her dietary restrictions weren¡¯t as strict as those of celebrities. As long as she didn¡¯t overindulge, eating these treats occasionally wasn¡¯t a problem.


    Sheng Quan¡¯s daily exercise routine was more than enough to maintain her good health.


    ¡ª¡°So, as a rich person, you get to enjoy big chunks of braised pork with fragrant rice,¡± Lin Aike, sitting across from Sheng Quan, said with a resentful look. ¡°Meanwhile, I have to eat these greens just to maintain my on-camera figure.¡±


    Sheng Quan flashed her a smile. ¡°Don¡¯t worry, soon all 600 contestants will be joining you in eating like this.¡±


    And she, Sheng Boss Quan, could happily munch on her braised pork while watching this crowd of people collectively endure nutritious but bland meals.


    Just thinking about it made life feel wonderful.


    Sheng Quan took out her phone and called the manager in charge of the program¡¯s operations:


    ¡°Arrange for all contestants to be weighed. The cafeteria menu will change starting tomorrow, and make sure to capture their reactions during meals.¡±


    ¡°When editing the recorded footage, splice in clips of their happy eating expressions from yesterday for contrast.¡±


    As for why the contestants were first treated to lavish meals in the program¡ªwell, for one, three days of indulgence wouldn¡¯t instantly turn them into overweight stars.


    On the other hand, it was a bit like a ¡°last meal¡± before the real training began. Once the program officially entered its rigorous phase, these young contestants would have to endure intense dance practices while surviving on greens.


    That night, the hashtag [#GuoxinghaiFoodTooGoodContestantsGainWeight] shot to the top of trending topics.


    A flood of amused netizens rushed in to join the fun.


    [Guoxinghai has been super popular lately!]


    [Turns out celebrities have the same reaction to weight gain as I do lol]


    [Tu Zhu even tried turning the scale off and on again in disbelief¡ªhis face is priceless: Tu Zhu shocked.jpg]


    [I¡¯m dead¡ªhow did that one guy manage to gain seven pounds in four days? I thought Tu Zhu¡¯s five pounds was already the limit!]


    [The seven-pound guy was living his best life¡ªhe even went back to the cafeteria for midnight snacks. Check out the comparison: happily eating.jpg vs. ¡°No one told me food makes you fat!!¡±.jpg]


    [These before-and-after pics are killing me¡ªwhat kind of hilarious battlefield is this where everyone gains weight??]


    [LMAO they¡¯re all working out together now trying to lose weight¡ªseeing them lined up in the gym and dance studio is comedy gold.]


    The more people talked about it, the more curious others became.


    A fresh wave of viewers flooded the livestream, watching the contestants desperately exercising to shed the extra pounds and laughing mercilessly in the comments.


    These carefully selected contestants included some who already had fame and fans before joining the show, as well as newcomers who, while less known, were undeniably talented and attractive.


    Different strokes for different folks¡ªwith so many viewers, even just four days into the livestream, some had already found their favorites.


    From a fan¡¯s perspective, seeing their beloved idol not suffering but instead thriving¡ªwith rosy cheeks and a few extra pounds¡ªwas nothing short of delightful. How could they not feel happy and grateful toward the show for taking such good care of their stars?


    As for casual viewers, the sheer absurdity of a group of young, image-conscious idols gaining weight because the cafeteria food was too good was entertainment in itself.


    They initially came just to see what the fuss was about.


    But once they entered the livestream, they were greeted by a sea of gorgeous faces¡ªall pouting, sweating, and struggling through workouts.


    There was a manga-esque girl fiercely battling it out in a dance-off to burn calories.


    A fresh-faced boy with flawless skin panting through a jump rope session.


    A tall, muscular contestant¡ªstill baby-faced¡ªarguing with his roommate that his weight gain was pure muscle, not fat.


    A poised, elegant ¡°big sister¡± type sweetly helping her petite, short-legged roommate with a jump rope.


    Netizens who had only come for the laughs: Is this heaven?!


    We¡¯re never leaving!


    This livestream is our new home!


    Of course, the contestants, busy exercising and with their phones confiscated since entering the program, had no idea what the comments were saying.


    They didn¡¯t know that these viewers¡ªsome turning into new fans, others just here for the fun¡ªwere gathered together, laughing at their creative weight-loss attempts.


    They certainly didn¡¯t know that while they worried whether their weight gain would make them less appealing to audiences, their social media accounts were gaining waves of new followers.


    Backstage at [Guoxinghai], a data analyst excitedly reported: ¡°After the hashtag went viral, livestream viewership increased by 5%.¡±


    Wu Ying was thrilled.


    That 5% might seem small, but given [Guoxinghai]¡¯s already massive daily viewership, the extra numbers alone could have landed another show on the weekly popularity charts.


    As she celebrated, her admiration for Sheng Quan grew even deeper.


    The entire [Contestants Gain Weight Trend] strategy had been President Sheng¡¯s idea¡ªrejecting the proposal team¡¯s suggestions of [rivalry] and [competition] in favor of this fresh approach.


    No talent show had ever done something like this before.


    Wu Ying had known the plan was good, but she hadn¡¯t expected it to be this effective. She silently marveled at President Sheng¡¯s brilliance while making mental notes to study her thought process.


    Seeing Wu Ying lost in thought after her moment of excitement, her subordinates didn¡¯t dare disturb her.


    The chief manager was relatively young for her position, but her decisive, no-nonsense leadership and her role in orchestrating the entire holographic stage production had earned her a reputation for formidable authority.


    Wu Ying, unaware of her team¡¯s cautious respect, was already planning to thoroughly analyze President Sheng¡¯s strategy after work.


    Her admiration for Sheng Quan had started as simple admiration for a strong, accomplished woman¡ªa natural affinity. But over time, as she witnessed Sheng Quan¡¯s charisma firsthand and was entrusted with greater responsibilities, that admiration had deepened into something far more profound.


    If this were college, Wu Ying would have taped President Sheng¡¯s photo to her wall before exams¡ªjust like students who pinned ¡°genius¡± posters for good luck.


    Then again, who said you couldn¡¯t do that after graduation?


    Wu Ying glanced around, making sure no one was paying attention to her. With renewed confidence, she straightened her posture and made up her mind with a resolute expression.


    Alright, tonight¡¯s the night.

 Chapter 119

    Sheng Quan, who had been secretly photographed by Wu Ying, was currently reviewing the contestants'' medical reports.


    In talent shows, health check-ups are crucial. Contestants practicing dance aren¡¯t like her, who casually entertains herself with just two hours of practice a day.


    Excessive sweating, intense physical activity, and low-oil, low-salt meals mean the contestants'' daily energy expenditure far exceeds what most viewers could imagine.


    The program¡¯s responsibility is to ensure these contestants maintain their health despite such high-intensity training.


    After a thorough review, Sheng Quan¡ªwho was all too familiar with "stomach ailments and gastritis"¡ªwas relieved. Perhaps because the contestants were generally young and resilient, most appeared to be in good health.


    Tu Zhu, as expected, had a mild stomach condition.


    Sheng Quan, the self-proclaimed stomach ailment researcher, assessed it with experience: "Not too severe, otherwise he wouldn¡¯t have been able to gain weight so quickly."


    It wasn¡¯t that Sheng Quan had some "100% of sponsored talents must have stomach issues" bug. The real culprit was the entertainment industry¡¯s toxic environment¡ªany artist with even a hint of fame could forget about eating properly.


    Those with little fame, once in work mode, rarely had the right to decide when they could eat. The more famous ones were only busier.


    At Xingmang, as the boss, Sheng Quan paid the most attention to her employees'' eating and resting habits.


    Hua Qing, Yan Hui, and others had suffered physically in the past, so they took great care of their health now. Jin Jiu, Yu Xiangwan, and the like followed Sheng Quan¡¯s instructions to the letter¡ªif she told them to eat properly, they did.


    Jiang Zhen and Gu Zhao were cut from the same cloth¡ªonce they started working, they forgot everything else, as if they could transcend mortal needs like eating for three days straight. That¡¯s when the assistants Sheng Quan assigned to them proved their worth.


    As for Lin Aike, she didn¡¯t need an assistant to remind her.


    ¡ªIf she didn¡¯t plan to stay in the entertainment industry for a few more years, she¡¯d happily eat her way from one end of Shanghai to the other.


    With extensive (albeit oddly phrased) experience in handling subordinates¡¯ stomach issues, Chairwoman Sheng smoothly issued her directives.


    The instructions soon reached the nutritionists finalizing the meal plans, followed by the cafeteria manager and the chefs.


    That ?????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????night, while the exhausted contestants slept soundly, the cafeteria¡ªusually on the periphery of the "manor"¡ªwas brightly lit and bustling with activity.


    Don¡¯t assume healthy meals are easy to prepare. The chefs meticulously controlled the heat, while the chef dispatched by Xingmang demonstrated how to make low-oil, low-salt, sugar-free dishes that were at least somewhat palatable.


    Though this chef was barely thirty, the Guoxinghai cafeteria staff listened attentively, eager to learn.


    After all, she had been cooking at Xingmang almost since its inception.


    From newly signed rookies to international superstar Jiang Zhen, nearly everyone had eaten her food at some point.


    Over time, she had risen from being the "sole cook in the small cafeteria" to "head chef," and eventually to the person in charge of Xingmang¡¯s entire dining operations.


    Her rapid climb in rank and salary was enough to earn the Guoxinghai chefs¡¯ admiration and envy.


    As they studied diligently, they secretly calculated: even if Xingmang signed only one-tenth of the 600 contestants, that would still be 60 new talents.


    With Xingmang¡¯s continuous growth, the once-small "internal cafeteria" was expanding. If they performed well, they might even get recruited into the headquarters.


    Motivated by this thought, the chefs worked even harder.


    A little awkward and somewhat shy in front of the camera, they declared resolutely:


    "We¡¯ll definitely make the best food possible!"


    The next day, the contestants sat in the cafeteria, staring at the bizarrely plated dishes before them, lost in thought.


    [HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!]


    The live chat was in hysterics.


    [I tuned in last night and saw the camera filming the chefs hard at work¡ªonly for this to be the result after a whole night¡¯s effort!]


    [Lan He¡¯s "Is this for real?" expression is killing me!]


    [Ge Ling is a legend, eating it without batting an eye.]


    [Stop laughing, everyone! When you¡¯re trying to maintain a camera-ready figure, the best you can hope for is "not disgusting," LOL!]


    [The girls are even holding up slices of sweet potato to check if they¡¯re translucent¡ªI can¡¯t!]


    [I¡¯m touched they even get carbs, even if it¡¯s just one slice of sweet potato.]


    [This contrast is hilarious. The production team really knows how to stir things up!]


    Some viewers noticed something unusual:


    [Why is Tu Zhu¡¯s meal different from everyone else¡¯s?]


    [Yeah, completely different.]


    [Not just the contents¡ªeven the tray is a different style.]


    The audience wasn¡¯t the only one who noticed. Tu Zhu couldn¡¯t help but stand up, clearly intending to ask the cafeteria staff.


    But the staff were busy cleaning, bustling about in a flurry of activity. He approached, lips parting as if to speak, but no words came out.


    The rounder-faced young man took another step forward, his lips moving slightly. One hand clutched at his clothes anxiously, as if trying to muster courage.


    Three seconds later, he still couldn¡¯t bring himself to speak.


    He looked pitiful, yet somehow, this instantly struck a chord with some viewers.


    [Socially awkward Tu Zhu.]


    [His face is all red! He looks so helpless, but somehow that just makes him even more attractive?!]


    [Who wouldn¡¯t love a soft, flustered beauty with teary eyes?]


    [HELP! I just want to pinch his cheeks and watch him cry big fat tears!]


    [The internet isn¡¯t lawless! Watch your words!]


    [I see Tu Zhu¡¯s three roommates standing up¡ªoh no, the huskies are coming to rescue their samoyed friend!]


    Just as Jing Tiangao and the others started making their way over, a clear, pleasant voice rang out:


    "Excuse me, miss¡ªwhy is our food different from everyone else¡¯s?"


    Tu Zhu froze, instinctively turning to look behind him.


    A tall, radiant girl spotted him and cheerfully waved, stepping closer to peek at his tray:


    "Tu Zhu, yours is different too! Look, mine¡¯s the same."


    [OMG LAN HE LAN HE!!]


    [Wait, don¡¯t they usually have no interaction? Why do they seem so familiar?]


    [Lan He and Tu Zhu worked together before¡ªlike two years ago on some show.]


    [The entertainment industry is a small world. Everyone knows everyone eventually.]


    Tu Zhu¡¯s eyes remained slightly downcast as he greeted her softly: "Hello, Lan He."


    The girl grinned breezily. "Hey, hey!"


    [AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAH!!!!]


    A screaming, hysterical comment flashed by, but most viewers barely noticed¡ªexcept for its eye-catching golden VIP effect.


    ¡ª¡ªThen, with disinterest, she continued watching the live stream.


    Who isn¡¯t a premium VIP member these days?


    At this moment, the sender of this barrage comment, Sheng Quan, was internally screaming with excitement alongside System 006.


    [They¡¯ve met!!! They¡¯ve met!!!]


    [My Lan He!! She¡¯s still as radiant and confident as ever!!]


    [Ahhhh!!! In the novel, even in death, she was still thinking about Tu Zhu. Now they¡¯ve finally met safely¡ªthis proud mama is crying!!]


    Though 006 couldn¡¯t fully empathize, seeing its host so thrilled, it happily joined in the celebration, showering virtual confetti and fireworks. The pair reveled as if commemorating a grand occasion.


    Sheng Quan was genuinely overjoyed.


    In the original story, Lan He appeared much later, and her circumstances were never easy. As an idol who debuted through a survival show, she was inevitably discarded by her company as she aged.


    But Lan He never gave up. She was like a stubborn weed, repeatedly trampled yet persistently pushing through the soil to bask in the sunlight.


    And she succeeded. No matter how many setbacks she faced, she always found a way to rise again.


    This had been a tremendous source of inspiration for Sheng Quan back then. While other characters carried an air of tragedy, Lan He was like a little sun, forever fighting against life¡¯s adversities.


    Sheng Quan tried to emulate her.


    Whenever work grew exhausting and stress weighed her down, she¡¯d channel her inner sun by... furiously cursing her boss on her way to overtime.


    After transmigrating into the novel, Sheng Quan initially lacked the resources to organize stages or promote idols. But she was delighted to discover that, thanks to Xingmang¡¯s influence in the industry, Lan He now had far more opportunities than before.


    She once assigned a company advertisement to Lan He and, during the shoot, maintained a calm fac?ade while secretly bursting with excitement¡ª"Hahaha, I¡¯m going to see Lan He!"¡ªpretending to just pass by.


    And when Xingmang finally gained the capability to host holographic stages, Sheng Quan wasn¡¯t surprised to see Lan He participate.


    ¡ªShe would never let slip any chance to move forward.


    Yet, even such a resilient Lan He, in her final moments, had thought: "What a shame I couldn¡¯t uncover how Tu Zhu died."


    In his last breath, he had given her a warning.


    In her last breath, she regretted never learning the truth behind his death.


    Now, she witnessed the boy and girl, in the most peaceful and untroubled years of their lives, sharing a smile.


    Sheng Quan: AHHHH, I¡¯M DEAD!!!!


    ¡ª¡ªUnder the cafeteria lights, Lan He, having received an answer from the staff, suddenly understood:


    "Oh... so it¡¯s a special meal for those with health issues? Right, I do have stomach problems. Wow, they¡¯re this considerate? They even prepared meals for us?"


    Her face lit up with joy. "It must be Chairwoman Sheng!! Chairwoman Sheng is the best!!"


    This reflexive "praise Chairwoman Sheng no matter what" reaction was unmistakably that of a Sheng Quan fan.


    Tu Zhu, who had initially planned to take his tray and leave after getting his answer, paused upon hearing Lan He¡¯s words. Softly, he added his agreement:


    "I think it¡¯s Chairwoman Sheng too."


    "Right?! I¡¯ve seen interviews with Hua Qing and the others¡ªChairwoman Sheng cares so much about artists¡¯ health! She¡¯s truly the best."


    Tu Zhu nodded. "Yeah."


    Lan He: "Let me tell you, when I auditioned, Chairwoman Sheng came to watch me! She even praised my dancing!"


    Tu Zhu¡¯s eyes brightened slightly, and he replied with a hint of pride, "Me too. Chairwoman Sheng watched me as well."


    "Wow! What a coincidence!!"


    Lan He grew even more excited, slapping Tu Zhu¡¯s shoulder. "We¡¯re both people Chairwoman Sheng picked! We¡¯re definitely going to make it big!! Let¡¯s do this!"


    Tu Zhu, usually averse to physical contact, didn¡¯t recoil this time¡ªafter living with his three roommates in the program, he¡¯d grown accustomed to being patted.


    Unconsciously, the boy lifted his head, his bright eyes meeting the girl¡¯s across from him. A spark of determination flickered in his expression as he nodded firmly.


    "Yeah!"


    After this mutual pep talk, the two parted ways, returning to their seats with renewed vigor, devouring the specially prepared meals with the air of people fueling up to train hard, climb the ranks, and conquer the world.


    Sheng Quan, who had been eagerly waiting in the live stream to see what heartfelt reunion conversation they¡¯d have: "..."


    This wasn¡¯t quite what she¡¯d imagined.


    The Lan He who had stubbornly fought against fate, and the Tu Zhu whose every mention in the novel carried a quiet sorrow¡ª


    Now, they were just two young people, naive yet full of hope, striving toward their dreams.


    Chairwoman Sheng slowly stretched into a newly learned yoga pose on her mat, her expression relaxed and content.


    Different... but not bad at all.


    ...Ow, this pose is brutal. Wasn¡¯t yoga supposed to be soothing?


    Of course, stomach issues weren¡¯t exclusive to those two. Many of the debuted contestants had similar problems, though, as they were still young, none were severe.


    Neither their companies nor they themselves paid much attention¡ªuntil the pain struck.


    None of them had expected that joining this show would come with such meticulous care.


    They ate with gratitude, and their fans, watching from the sidelines, showered the program with praise.


    [First time seeing a survival show prepare special meals for contestants with health issues.]


    [For some reason, seeing them happily eating these meals makes me happy too.]


    [My Jin Yuan has stomach problems?? Thank you, program team, for taking such good care of them. So touched.]


    [Lan He¡¯s always so cheerful¡ªI had no idea she suffered from this too. Lan He, please take care of yourself!]


    [Don¡¯t cry, lol. Lan He just admitted she got stomach problems from eating insane levels of spicy food.]


    [Tu Zhu looks so adorable eating his meal obediently. This show is a goldmine of visuals¡ªmy eyes are overwhelmed.]


    Fans were moved by the care their idols received, casual viewers applauded the program¡¯s thoughtfulness, and a dedicated "study group" even attempted to recreate the "Guoxinghai-approved diet meal" by referencing yesterday¡¯s footage.


    The hype never died down.


    Following the earlier trending topics like [#GuoxinghaiFoodTooGoodContestantsGainingWeight] and [#GuoxinghaiCafeteriaRevampsMenu], the evening saw [#GuoxinghaiSpecialMealsForContestantsWithStomachIssues] climb the charts, with comments flooding in to praise the show¡¯s attentiveness.


    Though most of the effusive, essay-length compliments came from the affected contestants¡¯ fans, the sheer volume left an impression.


    Even passersby scrolling past couldn¡¯t help but develop a favorable curiosity about the show.


    With fans passionately driving the momentum, Guoxinghai¡¯s viewership numbers soared without pause.


    The competing shows watched helplessly as it skyrocketed in popularity. Just when they thought it had hit the ceiling¡ªenough to make them sneer, "That''s it?"¡ªthe show smashed right through and shot into space like a rocket.


    The competing teams: "..."


    The most infuriating part? Not only did they have to seethe with envy over Guoxinghai''s success, but they also had to worry about their own staff getting the idea of "if you can''t beat ''em, join ''em."


    They couldn¡¯t even blame their subordinates for low ratings like they used to. Now that Guoxinghai was aggressively poaching talent, if they dared to shift blame onto their teams, those employees wouldn¡¯t hesitate to quit on the spot and defect to Guoxinghai overnight.


    The executives of rival shows: "..."


    They couldn¡¯t compete. They couldn¡¯t win.


    All they could do was console themselves: "Popularity rises and falls. Guoxinghai is at its peak now¡ªit¡¯ll come down eventually."


    And then, just as the show¡¯s hype showed the slightest sign of dipping, it suddenly surged even higher.


    The rival executives: "..."


    Are you cheating?!


    Who even plays like this?!


    Though they grumbled internally, their hands betrayed them as they opened Weibo¡ªonly to find the entire platform flooded with Guoxinghai.


    The reason for the sudden spike was obvious.


    The contestants had finished their training, and it was time to showcase their progress.


    Most viewers had initially tuned into Guoxinghai for one thing: the holographic stage.


    And now, Guoxinghai had officially announced¡ª


    The world¡¯s first holographic stage would debut tomorrow night.

 Chapter 120

    ¡¾Holographic Stage Holographic Stage Holographic Stage!!!!¡¿


    Once Guoxinghai announced the exact time for its first-ever holographic stage livestream, discussions across major platforms were dominated by these four words.


    From the very beginning, a massive wave of viewers had flocked to this talent show for one reason¡ªto witness the world''s first holographic stage performance.


    ¡¾I thought the production team would save the holographic stage for the final showdown! Aaaaaah, I never expected every single stage would be holographic!¡¿


    ¡¾If this were any other production team, they¡¯d probably use the holographic stage as a gimmick, only revealing it at the very end. But Guoxinghai is a Starry Brilliance production¡ªStarry Brilliance never disappoints!¡¿


    ¡¾Aaaaaah, I¡¯m so excited! If the stage weren¡¯t starting in the evening, I¡¯d totally call in sick just to watch it at home!¡¿


    ¡¾Just admit you don¡¯t want to work, lol.¡¿


    ¡¾Everyone¡¯s celebrating, while I¡¯m here crying because I don¡¯t have a holographic device.¡¿


    ¡¾The second I heard the news, I rushed to the store and bought a holographic helmet. Honestly, the price is a steal for this kind of tech. My wallet hurt for a second, but now I¡¯m over the moon!¡¿


    ¡¾Aaaaaah, I went to buy one too, but I was too late¡ªthe store was sold out! Luckily, the owner said he¡¯d restock ASAP. I swear, if he doesn¡¯t get them in by 8 PM, I¡¯ll lose it!!¡¿


    ¡¾Same here, sold out. Now I¡¯m just kicking myself for not buying one earlier.¡¿


    ¡¾Broke student here, crying. I wanna see the holographic stage too, aaaaaah!¡¿


    ¡¾I¡¯m broke too, but I just couldn¡¯t resist. Sure, the helmet costs money, but the holographic stage itself is FREE!¡¿


    That¡¯s right¡ªGuoxinghai¡¯s official announcement confirmed that while the holographic stage would debut soon, players only needed to enter the "Starry Sea Stage" in the game "Polaris" to watch it for free.


    FREE!!!!


    The Chinese people have always had a knack for compromise.


    If ?????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????you tell them a holographic helmet is expensive¡ªsomething an average worker would need to save up for two or even three years to afford¡ªthey might hesitate.


    But if you tell them that once they buy the helmet, they can enjoy breathtaking holographic performances without spending another dime?


    That changes everything.


    Especially when netizens come together to celebrate something, they¡¯re more than willing to splurge.


    And when that coveted item sells out, the frenzy only grows¡ªso much so that when restocks arrive, eager buyers immediately throw their money at it.


    Sheng Quan had learned this early on when she worked in marketing. Now, as the boss, she understood it even better.


    Like right now¡ª


    "The backup stock of helmets we prepared in advance is already sold out?"


    Her subordinate confirmed, the background noise filled with chaotic chatter¡ªsomeone even shouting, "No stock left?! Not a single one?!"


    It wasn¡¯t hard to tell he was calling from the flagship store of their holographic devices.


    Despite the surrounding clamor, his voice carried an unmistakable, barely suppressed excitement.


    How could he suppress it? With holographic helmets flying off the shelves, his bonus was about to skyrocket to heavenly heights.


    "Yes, the sales were incredibly fast. A huge number of customers who ordered online even drove straight to the store to pick them up in person. Right now, we¡¯re completely out of stock."


    Sheng Quan listened, unfazed, as she continued her call. "What about the simulation pods?"


    The subordinate, still floating on cloud nine, answered immediately, "Just as predicted¡ªsales are skyrocketing alongside Guoxinghai¡¯s hype. Today alone, we¡¯ve sold 70% of our inventory."


    And this wasn¡¯t just any inventory.


    This was stock that headquarters had mass-produced well in advance, specifically in preparation for Guoxinghai.


    At the time, some had voiced concerns.


    Sure, holographics were eye-catching, but no matter how you looked at it, the price and durability meant the peak demand would come either when the tech first debuted or when a new generation was released.


    Sheng Quan¡¯s order to ramp up production had felt like telling a luxury brand CEO to mass-produce high-end goods for an event that might not even succeed.


    But now, all those worries had turned into cheers.


    Before Guoxinghai launched, some had quietly whispered among themselves¡ªwas Sheng Quan just throwing money around, spending two billion on a show with no real payoff?


    Now, those whispers had vanished, drowned out by the overwhelming crowds flooding holographic device stores in every city.


    Customers who had previously hesitated¡ªvisiting multiple times, trying out the devices, loving them but never committing¡ªwere now swiping their cards without a second thought.


    They couldn¡¯t wait to get home, set up their new devices, log into Polaris, and enjoy the full holographic gaming experience before slipping into the "Starry Sea Stage" to await the performance.


    Of course, the frenzy wasn¡¯t just benefiting the holographic devices.


    Inside Polaris, veteran players quickly noticed that the already-popular game had suddenly become a sea of newcomers¡ªexcited, curious, and running wild through the virtual world.


    The player count displayed in the top-right corner had reached a staggering number.


    For now, these new players were still basking in the joy of "I¡¯m inside a holographic game!" and "Tonight, I¡¯ll see the holographic stage!"


    But soon, they¡¯d discover that holographic gaming was even more fun than they¡¯d imagined¡ªthis second world was worth spending real money on.


    And naturally, all that money would flow straight into Sheng Quan¡¯s accounts.


    "Are all these players from China?"


    A player from Country B watched enviously as the newcomers adjusted their wrist-mounted "Dials"¡ªthe signature mark of holographic players. Every gamer who logged in via holographic devices had one.


    "They¡¯re all here for the holographic stage," his companion muttered, equally jealous as he eyed the new avatars¡¯ wrists. "It starts tonight."


    "I¡¯m so jealous. I¡¯d buy a holographic device too, but the import taxes are insane. The helmets are reasonably priced in China, but by the time they reach us, the cost is outrageous."


    The two players spent a good while grumbling about how expensive imported holographic devices were after taxes, but in the end, they could only watch with envy as the happy Chinese players activated their portals and stepped into the Starry Sea Stage¡ªan exclusive holographic experience.


    Of course, it wasn¡¯t just Chinese players entering the Starry Sea Stage.


    Not all international players were like these two from Country B¡ªunable to afford the taxed price of holographic devices.


    Tonight, the world''s first holographic stage will debut at the Polar region!


    This news quickly spread across nations through the internet and media. Since Polar was already a globally popular game and the stage was free to attend, it immediately drew waves of holographic players eager to witness the spectacle.


    Even though most of them hadn¡¯t watched a single minute of [Guoxinghai], it didn¡¯t matter¡ªafter all, watching the stage cost nothing, and it wasn¡¯t like they¡¯d lose anything by tuning in.


    Of course, many international players opted for a better viewing experience by joining the livestream hosted by China¡¯s program, hoping to familiarize themselves with the contestants who would soon grace the stage.


    As a result, [Guoxinghai]¡¯s viewership surged once again.


    "Harvest time."


    That was how Sheng Quan referred to today.


    All the groundwork she had laid was finally coming to fruition.


    A single holographic stage had seamlessly linked [Guoxinghai], [holographic devices], and [Polar]¡ªthree of the most lucrative projects.


    What? [Guoxinghai] had always been free for viewers, not earning a single cent?


    A voice sounded from behind her: "Chairman Sheng."


    Like the busy Sheng Quan, her assistant and bodyguard, He Xi, had just finished a call.


    "The chairpersons of [Yuzu Cat] and [Breeze Taste] have arrived in person, along with representatives from thirty-three other brands. They¡¯re all highly sincere and willing to accept that ad placements on [Guoxinghai] won¡¯t linger for too long."


    She handed over a tablet. "Here¡¯s the price list."


    Sheng Quan glanced at the quotes, all starting at nine figures, and wasn¡¯t surprised. "The offers are quite generous."


    She set the tablet aside. "Stick to the original plan¡ªhave Qu Cheng and his team negotiate and try to finalize everything by tonight."


    Yes, Sheng Quan had never intended to profit directly from the audience.


    As the starting point of her interconnected strategy, [Guoxinghai] only needed to attract more and more viewers.


    Of course, she wasn¡¯t about to invest two billion just to break even.


    A talent show that had already surpassed all its competitors¡ªone that would undoubtedly remain unrivaled for years¡ªhad brands clamoring to pay exorbitant sums for even the smallest ad spot.


    And one should never underestimate the power of a tiny ad placement.


    From the water contestants drank during training, the air conditioners or fans they used when tired, the makeup they wore, the shoes on their feet, down to the tableware they ate with¡ªbrands specializing in even the most mundane items were eyeing these opportunities like hungry wolves.


    They didn¡¯t even need the program to give their brands elaborate introductions. A simple glimpse of their logo when the camera panned over these items was enough.


    For that fleeting moment of exposure, brands were more than willing to pay top dollar.


    Thinking of the massive influx of cash about to roll in, Sheng Quan felt a surge of joy but didn¡¯t forget to remind her team once more:


    "Make sure the contracts are scrutinized for suitability, especially for drinking water. Only sign deals with mineral water brands¡ªno weird sweet or salty beverages."


    Whether in this life or her past one, she had always found it baffling to see celebrities on variety shows chugging all sorts of flavored drinks for ad placements. Didn¡¯t that just make them thirstier?


    On other people¡¯s shows, she might just grumble a little, but on her own, she could at least ensure things were done her way.


    "Understood, I¡¯ll relay the message."


    He Xi nodded, jotted it down, and hurried out. As Sheng Quan¡¯s chief assistant, her workload was now rivaling even Gu Zhao¡¯s.


    Speaking of Gu Zhao, Sheng Quan glanced back at the man diligently working behind her.


    Xingmang operated like a well-oiled machine¡ªwhen one component moved, the others followed suit. Now that [Guoxinghai], the starting point, was in motion thanks to the holographic stage, the rest of Xingmang¡¯s parts were happily churning along as well.


    Every second of movement meant more money pouring in.


    Though Gu Zhao looked swamped, Sheng Quan could see the relaxed pleasure in his expression. Clearly, he was reveling in the thrill of scaling new heights in his career. His striking features glowed with satisfaction, making him even more captivating.


    As for why there was a desk in the rest area...


    ¡ªThere hadn¡¯t been one, but where Gu Zhao went, a workspace followed.


    Gu Zhao, a man who carried his office wherever he went.


    Sheng Quan was tempted to ask, "If you¡¯re just working here anyway, and it¡¯s less convenient than headquarters, why even stay with the program team?"


    But remembering that she was the one who had invited him¡ªand that while she was happily enjoying the sight of attractive contestants, the great CEO Gu was toiling away¡ªshe wisely kept her mouth shut.


    Chairman Sheng felt she ought to do something for the overworked Gu Zhao, who had come to watch the show but ended up buried in paperwork.


    So she picked up a small spray bottle and lightly misted the potted plant on his desk.


    Unsurprisingly, Gu Zhao appreciated the gesture.


    Noticing Sheng Quan tending to his little plant, he glanced up, looking faintly pleased, and thanked her earnestly: "Thank you."


    ¡ªThen he immediately dove back into his work.


    Sheng Quan was used to it by now. Sipping her coffee, she stepped out of the rest area, where a tall man was already waiting to follow her.


    "Let¡¯s go check on the contestants. They must be excited¡ªthey¡¯ll be on stage tonight."


    The contestants were practically dying of nerves!


    They knew [Guoxinghai] had a holographic stage, but like most viewers, 99% of them had assumed such a high-end feature would only appear in the later stages of the show.


    You know, after brutal eliminations whittled six hundred contestants down to six¡ªthe cream of the crop, the absolute best of the best¡ªwho would then stride confidently onto the holographic stage, buoyed by the cheers of countless fans.


    But the program team didn¡¯t play by the rules!


    They had barely been in the program for a few days¡ªnot even ten¡ªand now they were being thrown onto the holographic stage?!


    Honestly, most contestants were feeling a little unsteady.


    Rumor had it that holographic stages were insanely expensive. What if they messed up?


    And of course, there¡¯d be an audience. But since they had just joined the program, conventional wisdom said this was when viewership would be at its lowest¡ªthe first recorded episode hadn¡¯t even aired yet.


    Any contestant familiar with talent shows knew that before the first episode dropped, unknowns like them were basically invisible.


    Even those who already had some fame couldn¡¯t help but feel uneasy.


    "The recorded episode hasn¡¯t aired yet¡ªwill there even be an audience?"


    Another contestant sounded uncertain. "Probably? It¡¯s a holographic stage. If it were me... I¡¯d go just to see the spectacle."


    Yes, a spectacle¡ªnot to support any particular contestant.


    Realistically, with such a short time in the program, audiences probably couldn¡¯t even tell them apart yet.


    Tu Zhu sat huddled in a corner with his roommates.


    His three roommates, instead of dragging the corner-loving Tu Zhu out, had squeezed in beside him, forming a cozy little cluster.


    It has to be said, Tu Zhu huddled alone in the corner did look a little pitiful, but when his three tall, broad-shouldered roommates also squeezed into the same corner, the scene became downright comical.


    Jing Tiangao, a tall, handsome guy with sun-kissed skin and an aura that screamed "health," was also grimacing:


    "I¡¯m so nervous about going on stage. What do I do? There¡¯s supposed to be an interactive segment in my dance routine. I thought having you guys in the audience would work, but now it¡¯s a holographic stage¡ªwhat if no one interacts with me?"


    Meng Wei glanced left and right before whispering, "How about this? I have a holographic helmet in the luggage room. Let¡¯s sneak it out, and when you¡¯re on stage, I¡¯ll pretend to be a fan and interact with you."


    Jing Tiangao clapped his hands. "Brilliant idea!!"


    Ming Qin shushed them. "Keep it down! Don¡¯t you know we¡¯re being filmed all day? What if this gets broadcast?"


    "No way," Meng Wei said, looking around like a thief. "There are so many people here¡ªthey won¡¯t focus on us. Right, Tu Zhu?"


    "Or we could just quietly go now..."


    Tu Zhu had been silent until then, but seeing his three roommates start glancing around suspiciously, he couldn¡¯t help but get swept up in it. He cautiously scanned the surroundings and whispered,


    "But aren¡¯t we not allowed to use connected devices? Isn¡¯t that against the rules? Also... do any of you even know where the luggage room is?"


    The three tall roommates: "...No."


    Tu Zhu whispered again, "And I remember the luggage room has a password lock. We don¡¯t know the code, do we?"


    The three tall roommates: "..."


    [HAHAHAHAHAHAHA!!!]


    The live chat was in stitches.


    [Whispering their plans at full volume.]


    [The cameras: Go on, keep talking.]


    [I¡¯m dying¡ªstealing a helmet to pretend to be your own audience? Genius move.]


    [They have no idea they already have a group name, LOL.]


    [Come on! Three Huskies and their Samoyed friend are a powerhouse combo!]


    Sheng Quan, watching the young contestants fret over these things, nearly burst out laughing.


    "Is the director broadcasting this? Tell the production team to air all these secret conversations."


    "Especially the part where they¡¯re worried about not having an audience. Show it all."


    She knew exactly how the internet would react.


    After these scenes aired, tonight¡¯s holographic stage would undoubtedly deliver a surprise.


    The live feed cut to other contestants whispering among themselves.


    On the big screen, Tu Zhu and his three roommates were still crouched in the corner.


    One roommate tried to comfort Tu Zhu: "You¡¯re different¡ªyou already have fans. There¡¯ll definitely be people supporting you."


    Tu Zhu, who had been relaxing a little while talking to them, stiffened at those words.


    After a long pause, he murmured, "I hope so."


    That night, the moment arrived.


    The contestants stepped onto the stage, hearts pounding.


    They weren¡¯t dancing while wearing helmets, of course¡ªthe holographic technology projected the stage¡¯s visuals into the real world.


    The moment they appeared, every contestant froze.


    As far as the eye could see, the space was packed with people... and non-human avatars.


    ¡ªThis was a game, after all, so plenty of viewers had chosen bizarre appearances. There was even an ant bouncing up and down enthusiastically.


    Though the scene looked chaotic, with so many overlapping layers, it did nothing to dampen the crowd¡¯s excitement.


    Most of the audience held up glowing star signs bearing the contestants¡¯ names, shining brightly in the sea of light.


    "AHHHHHHH!!!!!"


    "They¡¯re here!!!"


    "TU ZHU!!!!!"


    "Lan He, Lan He, I love you!!!"


    "CLAP CLAP CLAP!!!"


    "OWOOOO!!! Ge Ling, look at me!!! Didn¡¯t you say you like fluffy things?! I¡¯m a wolf¡ªa lone wolf from the north!!!"


    "Fluffy? Pfft! I¡¯m a spider! Do you even have leg hair this fluffy?!!"


    The contestants stood dumbfounded, staring at the endless sea of spectators, as if caught in a dream.


    We¡¯ve only been airing for... less than ten days?!