Cao Bo was Cao Shao’s real name.
But that wasn’t the point. The point was that Yuan Fenghui had already finalized a deal with Huang Yongjuan?
Wen Ying didn’t even know Huang Yongjuan was in Hunan!
Huang Yongjuan was undeniably a musical genius, having produced albums for numerous top singers. So why didn’t Zhang Yangning’s album, produced by Huang, become a hit? A big reason was likely Guan Zong.
Guan Zong only cared about quick profits. From song selection to production to album release, everything was rushed. Huang wanted to create a high-quality album, but Guan Zong didn’t provide enough support. Take Xu Mei’s album: the extra budget went to MV filming. Huang thought Guan Zong was out of his mind. An album’s success hinges on the songs’ quality, not the MV!
An MV is just icing on the cake. A good one is fine, a bad one doesn’t matter much. Years ago, without MVs, singers released tapes and still sold well!
Huang came to Hunan for a top diva. Seeing Zhang Yangning’s performance at the gala last night sparked his interest. Yuan Fenghui, with her X-ray-like insight, sealed a deal with Huang at lightning speed.
Increasing the budget for Tianjiao’s second project gave Huang room to shine, which was how Yuan convinced him.
Hearing the reason, Wen Ying didn’t hesitate long. “Then I’ll invest 3 million.”
The investment jumped from 2 million to 3 million, requiring her to tap into *Teen Idol*’s royalties, due in November.
Wen Ying figured her dream of buying a riverside apartment in Shanghai would be delayed again. With *The Princess’s New Clothes*’ ratings, Tianjiao’s second project was sure to sell its licensing rights. While profits were uncertain, losing money was impossible. With the total budget rising, Yuan wanted Wen Ying to increase her investment to maintain her share, a gesture for Wen Ying’s benefit. How could Wen Ying refuse such kindness?
—Yuan Fenghui was determined to tie Wen Ying, the little hamster, tightly to Tianjiao.
Xie Qian understood why Yuan did this and felt no resentment.
Yuan’s thinking was normal. Many were smart, but recognizing Wen Ying’s value didn’t mean they’d share profits. Yuan was both clever and generous, the kind who could bounce back from any setback.
Yuan grinned at Xie Qian. “Classmate Xie, what about you? Want to invest this time?”
Yuan never missed a chance to rope in Xie Qian, even leaving an investment slot for him.
Half-joking, half-serious. If Xie Qian took the bait, Yuan would accept his investment. But he firmly declined, “Thanks, Teacher Yuan, but I’ll pass this time.”
Xie Qian’s money was tied up in his logistics company.
Though Tianjiao’s second project was a sure bet, Xie Qian wasn’t greedy.
You get what you give. Xie Qian wasn’t the type to chase every penny. He started the logistics company to make use of purchased land. Now in the industry, he saw its long-term potential, despite the slow returns and high initial costs.
That slow grind could deter many, but once established, it was a sustainable business.
The three smart ones finalized their discussion while the two struggling students battled study guides under their wardens’ watch. When Zhang Yangning heard Huang Yongjuan would handle the new show’s music, his breathing slowed.
“I’m working with Teacher Huang?”
The surprise was overwhelming!
Zhang Yangning was so excited he didn’t know what to do with his hands.
“Not bad. Whether your composed interludes get used is up to Teacher Huang.”
Yuan cautioned Zhang not to get too excited. He nodded eagerly. “I know! Even if Teacher Huang doesn’t like my work, getting his guidance is enough!”
It was Huang Yongjuan!
Shallow, profit-driven types like Guan Zong couldn’t see Huang’s value.
Zhang Yangning struggled to express his joy, boldly hugging Yuan. “Teacher Yuan, don’t worry. I’ll act well, create well, and not waste this chance!”
Though Yuan recruited Huang for the project, not Zhang, Zhang would benefit.
His way of repaying Yuan was to follow her lead. Though he only wanted to be a singer-songwriter, he prioritized “acting well” over “creating well” when pledging loyalty, aligning with Yuan’s plan for him without question.
Yuan smiled.
Some dislike being directed figure, others love it.
After the Miracle Group’s betrayal, Yuan had been reflecting.
That night, Wen Ying began tweaking the script’s details to enrich the story and characters. A drama isn’t high-quality if any part—script, production, directing, or acting—is half-hearted.
If the production team doesn’t show full sincerity, audiences aren’t fools. After a few disappointments, they lose trust.
Wen Ying might not care about Tianjiao’s reputation, but she cared deeply about her professional one, driving her to revise the script late into the night.
In the next room, Xie Qian’s laptop screen lit his face as he typed, flipped through academic books, and took notes, his focus unwavering.
If not in Shanghai, some work had to be handled remotely. Xie Qian didn’t manage operations but never stopped learning.
Even geniuses aren’t born knowing everything—skills come from study!
Wen Ying and Xie Qian weren’t the only ones working hard. Wang Shuang was tackling problems in his room, Li Mengjiao memorizing words, and Yun Chen and Zhang Yangning practicing expressions in front of mirrors, recalling key points from acting classes.
The next morning, everyone but Xie Qian had dark circles under their eyes.
“Xie Qian, what time did you sleep?”
Wen Ying yawned.
“Before two.”
Xie Qian’s casual reply irked Wen Ying.
—Same late night, yet some people dodge dark circles. Was the universe that unfair?
She kept that thought to herself, staying diplomatic with Xie Qian.
Freshly arrived in Hunan, Zhang Guangzhen was less restrained. In front of Cao Shao and Guan Zong, he wanted to clean out his ears.
“You’re saying, add more scenes between the male lead and the supporting actress?”
What kind of ridiculous move was that!
Leads and supporting roles are defined by screen time.
If the supporting actress’s scenes surpassed the female lead’s, yet the male lead still ended up with the female lead… Zhang Guangzhen suspected the audience would send him enough hate mail to fill sacks!
