Initially, Guan Zong was resolute, refusing to discuss Xu Mei’s contract termination with Gong Sheng, insisting she take the legal route, determined to drag it out until it buried her!
But just a few days later, Guan Zong softened, suddenly willing to negotiate the specifics of the termination.
However, he demanded a breach penalty from Jiaxin far exceeding the contract’s stipulated amount, clearly aiming to fleece them.
If Gong Sheng agreed to pay, Guan Zong would terminate Xu Mei’s contract immediately, not delaying her or affecting her current popularity.
If Gong Sheng couldn’t afford it, they’d have to go to court.
A lawsuit would take ages, and in a year or two, Xu Mei’s popularity would likely plummet.
Guan Zong hoped Gong Sheng would make a choice, paying the premium to free Xu Mei, even suggesting that with her current fame, the extra penalty could be recouped through a few commercial gigs.
Jiaxin’s cash flow was tight. They could cover the standard penalty, but Gong Sheng wasn’t willing to pay above the contract.
As for Guan Zong’s talk of booking more gigs after signing Xu Mei… Gong Sheng laughed in exasperation!
Xie Qian seemed unsurprised by the news.
“With *Love Cruise* cancelled, Guan Zong’s short on cash. Since Xu Mei’s heart is elsewhere, hiding her away would hurt him more. Better to sell her off at a high price.”
Huh?
How would *Love Cruise*’s cancellation leave Guan Zong short on cash?
Even if he invested in the drama, the licensing fees should’ve already paid off.
Unaware of Guan Zong’s troll-army backlash, Gong Sheng, after Xie Qian’s analysis, chuckled, “Short on cash? Then I’ll strike while he’s down!”
Paying a premium was out of the question. Gong Sheng, a seasoned broker, only wanted to haggle further.
Would dragging it to court really benefit Guan Zong?
The contract’s penalty might not be fully awarded in court. Xu Mei was a person, not a machine, exploited inhumanely by the company, forced to perform while sick and on IV drips. Gong Sheng figured these issues could be hashed out in court!
Guan Zong thought Gong Sheng feared a drawn-out lawsuit, but Gong Sheng wasn’t scared. A year or two without work was fine—it’d let Xu Mei settle down, take vocal, acting, and fitness classes, which might not even fit in a year.
When Gong Sheng said he wasn’t afraid of a lawsuit, Guan Zong was stunned.
Nothing was going right lately. The journalist drama gave him headaches, his wife Liang Dan blamed him, and now, after agreeing to Xu Mei’s termination, Jiaxin was still bargaining?
Guan Zong summoned Xu Mei to his office, sneering, “I thought Jiaxin wanted you so badly, but they don’t value you that much, unwilling to pay the penalty.”
“Oh.”
Xu Mei looked at her crimson nails, unfazed by Guan Zong’s provocation.
This idiot thought he could drive a wedge between her and Jiaxin, but Gong Sheng had already promised that any reduction in the penalty would go straight to her as a signing bonus.
Since entering the industry, Xu Mei’s finances had been tight. Even with increased exposure from staged scandals, she remained strapped.
A female star constantly in the news couldn’t wear the same outfit twice, and monthly wardrobe costs were hefty.
Jiaxin was willing to cover the penalty and give her a bonus. Though still under Guan Zong’s agency, her heart was with Jiaxin. Not only was she unmoved by his taunts, she helped Gong Sheng negotiate, “I’ve earned the company plenty these past two years. Just keep the penalty reasonable. If this blows up, it’ll embarrass us all, don’t you think?”
Guan Zong was furious, “You’re threatening me?”
Xu Mei smiled, “How could I threaten you? I’m grateful and want to save you some effort. You still haven’t found Yu Tianlin, right? That’s the real priority!”
Guan Zong was alarmed and suspicious.
Did Xu Mei know about the troll army?
But even Cao Bo didn’t know—how could she?
From Xu Mei’s perfectly made-up face, he couldn’t read anything.
…
In Shanghai, Gong Sheng’s fearlessness in fighting Xu Mei’s lawsuit gave her immense confidence.
In Chengdu, in the sweltering July heat, lawyer Zheng Zhihe, sweating in his suit, stepped out of the courthouse and into a black Audi parked roadside.
The car belonged to Jiang Youjia. Lin Lin sat in the passenger seat, both waiting for Zheng Zhihe’s update. Jiang Youjia, eager to make money, had stumbled into a mess, even losing Lin Lin’s dowry, making him more anxious, “Lawyer Zheng, how’s it going?”
Zheng Zhihe loosened his tie, letting the car’s AC cool his neck and clear his mind, “Their lawyer refused to settle. It’s going to court.”
Jiang Youjia gripped the steering wheel, veins bulging. Lin Lin gently patted his arm to calm him, “We expected this. If it’s court, so be it. We’ve entrusted this to Lawyer Zheng, so we trust his ability.”
A lawsuit’s outcome boiled down to money.
How much they’d pay depended on Zheng Zhihe’s skill.
Zheng Zhihe had handled many cases and seen all sorts of clients. A tough case was fine, but a client’s mental collapse was trouble.
Lin Lin seemed more resilient than Jiang Youjia. Zheng Zhihe skipped him, addressing Lin Lin, “They’re adamant about court, not just for money but maybe something else. Whatever their goal, we’ll follow proper procedure. Until the case ends, avoid direct contact with them. Let me handle communication.”
Direct talks could lead to anger, clouding judgement.
Lin Lin took Zheng Zhihe’s advice seriously, assuring him she wouldn’t act foolishly.
Zheng Zhihe smiled, “Then I won’t keep you. Update me on any developments. A lawsuit is just another life experience—don’t underestimate it, but don’t overthink it either.”
Jiang Youjia felt guilty.
Lin Lin reassured him, “The lawsuit’s in Lawyer Zheng’s hands. We just cooperate. If it’s court, it’s court. I believe spending money averts disaster. Think of it as starting fresh after studying abroad. I’ll be with you to rebuild!”
Jiang Youjia clasped his wife’s hand.
With Lin Lin staying positive, he couldn’t wallow.
Court was still some time away, and staying in Chengdu only fueled his anxiety. He proposed, “If Xie Qian needs help, I’ll run errands for him. If not, I’ll stay in Shanghai and look for opportunities.”
Relying on his father’s connections, Jiang Youjia could keep his business afloat despite losses, but he was done with that. How could he fight wolves in a cushy environment? He wanted to leave Chengdu and make his mark elsewhere.
Lin Lin didn’t object, encouraging him to go soon.
Back home, Jiang Youjia went to shower, and Lin Lin was stopped by her father-in-law, Jiang Xuekun.
“I know about Youjia’s situation. You’ve worked hard. You’re wonderful, more mature than him. I’ve held back to see if he can grow.”
Jiang Xuekun couldn’t let his daughter-in-law’s dowry fill the gap. He’d cover it himself.
But Lin Lin refused, “Dad, since you didn’t step in before, don’t now. If you always bail Youjia out, he’ll never grow. Our savings are gone, but I earn a salary, and we live at home. Daily life’s no issue!”
She mentioned Jiang Youjia’s plan to venture out. Jiang Xuekun was more pleased than worried.
Venturing out was good!
Not everyone could be a prodigy like the Xie family’s Xie Qian. Did that mean less brilliant people couldn’t succeed?
Of course they could!
They’d just stumble more, take detours, and bridge the gap with experience.
Jiang Xuekun was thoroughly satisfied with Lin Lin. A good wife was crucial for a man’s success—a harmonious home breeds prosperity.
So why did Xie Jinghu ignore his fine wife, Zou Weijun, to chase mistresses and favour illegitimate children? Was his brain caught in a door?
