Supporting Xie Qian’s dreams meant ensuring he got Jiashin Film Company, a subsidiary under Jinhu Group’s shares. Even if Xie Qian lost interest, some would steer him toward it. Sara Zhuo’s casual “support young people’s dreams” masked vicious intent. In families like Xie Qian’s, chasing film ventures was seen as a dead-end, a deviation. Some, eager to see him stray further, were ready to nudge him along.
This was why Xie Qian used Zhao Dong as a leverage point to secure Jiashin. Understanding a schemer’s mindset made it easier to counter. Joining *The Galaxy and You* crew in Modu reinforced the illusion he was serious about film, amplifying external perceptions.
His act was so convincing that even Gong Sheng grew suspicious. “Boss, you’re not really switching to film, are you?” he blurted during a meeting.
Xie Qian raised an eyebrow. “What’s wrong with that? If I did, it’d boost my personal assets, increase cash flow, and benefit the logistics company. I thought you wouldn’t object.”
Gong Sheng wouldn’t—nobody complained about a boss with deeper pockets. Unaware of the Xie family’s internal feuds, Gong Sheng had joined Xie Qian for the thrill of building something and the promise of big rewards. He saw Xie Qian as destined for greatness. Rubbing his hands, he grinned, “Boss, I’m all in! If there’s a good opportunity, count me in for cross-industry ventures!”
Xie Qian was speechless. Gong Sheng, originally a deal-broker, was adaptable—logistics or film, he’d thrive anywhere, as long as it was the boss’s core focus. Xie Qian nodded seriously, “We’ll talk when there’s progress. For now, logistics is the priority.”
Gong Sheng knew that. The logistics company was doing well—losing those big orders was a setback, but it ensured stability. Closing the door, he dropped his playful demeanor to share big news: “I heard the city’s building a train station. It’s real this time, and your land—”
A train station near Hongqiao Airport had been rumored for years, dismissed as unlikely when Xie Qian bought the land. Gong Sheng’s serious tone suggested an 80% certainty, though no official announcement had come. The timing was critical—post-announcement, land acquisition would involve compensation.
Though Xie Qian was wealthy, who’d turn down more? Gong Sheng hinted at exploiting the news, but Xie Qian shut it down. “No need.”
Gong Sheng blinked. *No extra compensation?*
“Gong Bro, compared to real ambitions, that’s small potatoes. Find a better logistics site soon. While I’m in Modu this break, we can check out new locations.”
His uncle Xie Yuping had taught him: focusing on petty gains makes you a petty person. Buying the Hongqiao land was strategic investment, not opportunism. Scrambling for extra compensation was the kind of triviality Xie Yuping scorned. Xie Qian prioritized finding a new logistics hub. Or, by accepting less compensation, he could negotiate city benefits. A train station meant huge logistics demand—paired with Hongqiao Airport, it could propel his company without relying on Xie Jinghu’s orders.
Gong Sheng felt a pang of regret over the compensation but was thrilled by Xie Qian’s vision. Someone who could resist easy money was rare. Age often equaled vision, but Xie Qian was an exception. Following such a clear-headed boss, success was inevitable.
Gong Sheng’s enthusiasm made their staged “argument” convincing. Employees noticed the “clash” between the young boss and Gong Sheng, worrying about the company’s stability. Drivers, content with their pay, feared job hunting if it collapsed. Word of Xie Qian storming out reached Zhao Dong.
Zhao Dong smirked. Ignoring a solid business for film? As Sara Zhuo suggested, they should “fulfill” Xie Qian’s dreams. He plotted to sway Xie Jinghu, while Zhao Qian, learning Xie Qian was in Modu, grew restless.
Zhao Dong warned his sister, “Stay away from Xie Qian. If you’re bored, hang out with He Zhen.”
Zhao Qian pouted, “What’s fun about him?”
At Christmas, she’d been all over He Zhen. Now, she dismissed him because he’d brought his girlfriend, Rebecca, back. Rebecca—elite-educated, brilliant, stunning—made Zhao Qian feel inadequate. Zhao Qian could challenge Wen Ying but shrank before Rebecca’s perfection. He Zhen, devoted to Rebecca, offered Zhao Qian only courtesy, leaving her deflated after failed attempts to win his attention.
Without Xie Qian, He Zhen was a fallback. With Xie Qian around, Zhao Qian’s focus returned to him. As Zhao Dong noted, the He family’s wealth paled beside the Xies’, dimming He Zhen’s appeal.
Fearing Zhao Qian would ruin things, Zhao Dong offered another option. “Or go visit family in the U.S. My friend can host you, and you can meet her son, a bit older than Xie Qian.”
Zhao Qian wasn’t interested, still sulking. Zhao Dong lowered his voice, and she perked up, skeptical. “Really? I don’t believe anyone looks like Xie Qian!”
It was true. Few resembled Xie Qian, but a half-brother might.
