Chapter 69 Look Forward

Chapter 69 Looking Forward

"Thank you, I'll remember that."

Jiang Ruotang smiled and opened the car door.

Having had this open and honest meal with Qi Yanze and solidifying their partnership, Jiang Ruotang felt both relieved and full of anticipation for the future.

He returned to the classroom, slipping in through the back door and deliberately passing by Lu Guifan's desk.

Lu Guifan knew Jiang Ruotang had arranged to have lunch with Qi Yanze today.

He had expected the guy to worry about him—like, what if Qi Yanze, with his combat skills, tried to pull some shady move? But instead, the moment he walked in, he saw Lu Guifan taking a nap at his desk as if nothing was wrong.

Ugh, so annoying! What’s his deal?!

Jiang Ruotang checked the time. Lu Guifan should wake up in about three minutes, so he stood there, hands on hips, waiting.

Sure enough, right on time, the phone in Lu Guifan's drawer vibrated. He reached in with one hand to grab it while rubbing his eyes with the other. The moment he raised his head, Jiang Ruotang abruptly pushed it back down.

"Hah, that’s what you get for acting all high and mighty!"

Lu Guifan reacted quickly, bracing himself against the desk with one hand. He sighed helplessly and then, giving in to Jiang Ruotang’s push, slowly lowered his head back onto the desk, grumbled, "Young master, are you satisfied now?"

"Not at all. You should've come with me today," Jiang Ruotang said.

"If I went with you, what could I do besides mooching a free meal?"

Jiang Ruotang thought to himself, *You could've played the part of my boyfriend.*

But considering Lu Guifan's personality, forget it—he'd be more suited to acting like a strict teacher.

As the acquisition of Xiaotian Guo got on track, Jiang Ruotang could finally focus on preparing for the entrance exams at the Central Academy of Fine Arts.

That was the tough battle, with even stricter technical requirements.

On the day of his departure, his classmates had lessons and couldn’t see him off.

Jiang Ruotang, however, was completely relaxed. He even sent a message to Lu Guifan: *[Master, wait for me to come back a winner!]*

Lu Guifan lowered his eyes and replied: *[When you return in glory, it’ll be straight into the brutal slog of textbooks and exams.]*

Jiang Ruotang pursed his lips. He had wanted to say, *"Wait for me to come back and make you mine,"* but this guy really knew how to rain on his parade.

Jiang Huaiyuan took Jiang Ruotang’s entrance exams very seriously and personally accompanied him, with Xiao Gao tagging along as well.

The exam topics felt like second nature to Jiang Ruotang, as if the universe had his back for his admission to the Central Academy of Fine Arts.

The sketch theme was *Broken Plaster Cast*, the color theme was *Sunlit Book Corner*, and the quick sketch theme was *Zoo*. These subjects put him in a great mood while painting, allowing his skills to come easily, his passion shining through.

While Jiang Ruotang was taking his exams, Jiang Huaiyuan also met up with industry peers for chats. When they heard Jiang Ruotang had won the New Wave division of the Fu Chunshi Art & Calligraphy Awards, they all agreed that with such an award, professors at the Central Academy of Fine Arts would likely be fighting to recruit him.

Jiang Huaiyuan said to Jiang Ruotang, "Son, today when I told those directors and producers about you winning the 'Rising Talent' award, I felt so, so proud. Way prouder than when I won Best Director myself, many times over. You know what? I should make a film… about an artist, for my darling son!"

Jiang Ruotang couldn’t help but laugh. "Dad, usually, films are tributes to parents. Only you would think of making one for your son."

"But your dad just feels so happy."

"My exam results aren’t even in yet."

"They told me with your honors, your scores are bound to be high!"

After finishing the exam, Jiang Ruotang was eager to return to Sheng City.

"You just finished the exam, won't you stay here for some fun?" Jiang Huaiyuan asked.

"No time for fun, I need to get back to the piles of books and endless practice tests!" Jiang Ruotang thought for a moment and added, "I want to visit the Capital Science and Technology University!"

It was the nation's top comprehensive institution, a leader in STEM research, having produced many academicians and tech leaders.

Jiang Huaiyuan initially thought his son wanted to tour this legendary university, but to his surprise, Jiang Ruotang brought his painting tools and easel, found a suitable angle and spot, and started painting.

Jiang Huaiyuan, being a very laid-back guy, simply grabbed a small folding fishing chair and sat beside his son to keep him company, also buying a coffee from a nearby café.

Such father-son moments were both relaxing and filled with unspoken understanding.

At first, many passersby merely glanced at Jiang Ruotang as they walked by, but by the time Jiang Huaiyuan finished his coffee, a crowd had gathered behind Jiang Ruotang.

Among them was a foreigner around fifty years old, with silver-streaked brown hair, his semi-long hair tied back with a simple elastic band.

He wore a plaid coat and a light-colored sweater, radiating gentle elegance.

At first, he was merely curious.

But as Jiang Ruotang added more colors to the canvas with bold, effortless strokes, he became captivated, standing behind Jiang Ruotang for a full thirty minutes, his posture shifting from hands in pockets to chin in hand, then to nodding slightly.

Jiang Huaiyuan could tell this man admired his son's painting. Anyone who appreciated Jiang Ruotang was a friend in his eyes. He went to the nearby Fairy and bought a jasmine milk tea for the man, said proudly, "This is my son."

The man smiled, accepted the jasmine milk tea, and said to Jiang Huaiyuan in English, "Your son is very talented. What's his name? Is he a student at the Central Academy of Fine Arts?"

Jiang Huaiyuan, having attended many overseas film festivals, replied with a slight accent but perfect grammar and word choice.

"His name is Jiang Ruotang. He just took the entrance exam for the Central Academy of Fine Arts. My son won the championship at Mr. Fu Chunshi's art show last year, and his works have been displayed in overseas galleries."

"Oh my, I knew it... His painting is beautiful, using color to create depth. If possible, besides the Central Academy of Fine Arts, he could consider my university. If he's interested, please do contact me."

With that, he handed Jiang Huaiyuan a business card.

A car pulled up by the roadside and waved at him.

The man regretfully took one last look at Jiang Ruotang's painting before getting into the car and leaving.

Only after Jiang Ruotang finished his painting and packed up his easel and tools did Jiang Huaiyuan tell him what the man had said, handing over the business card.

Jiang Ruotang froze when he saw the name of the university on the card.

It was a world-renowned school, and as for the professor's name—oh my—Jiang Ruotang's eyes widened as if he'd struck gold.

This was a very famous modern artist.

Jiang Ruotang carefully tucked away the card, which bore the professor's email address. He determined to contact and communicate with him properly once he got back.

When Jiang Ruotang returned to Sheng City and exited the airport, he received a call from Mu Xianqing—he'd actually come to meet him?

What's this about?

Not only had Mu Xianqing come, but he was also holding a bouquet of flowers in painterly-colored hues. When he saw Jiang Ruotang, he smirked like a fox, making Jiang Ruotang back up three steps.

"Wh-what's this about?"

Was the dream bubble attacked, or did Xiaolan's phone also explode?

Mu Xianqing handed the flowers to Jiang Ruotang and even took the initiative to help with his luggage. "I heard you ran into Willem Clavin while painting at the entrance of Capital Sci-Tech University this time?"

Jiang Ruotang froze for a moment. "How did you know?"

"Because Mr. Clavin also has a partnership with our family's gallery. He was invited to the capital for an exchange this time. Central Academy of Fine Arts originally wanted to arrange an art student exchange with his college, but he wasn't impressed by any of the students." Mu Xianqing leaned closer and said, "Mr. Clavin said their works showed too much technical mannerisms and lacked emotional fluidity. Just as he was about to leave disappointed, he saw you after visiting Capital Sci-Tech University."

Jiang Ruotang touched his pocket—Mr. Clavin’s business card was in his wallet.

"Mr. Clavin heard that your works have also been exhibited, so he came to ask me about you. As soon as I heard his description, I sent him your photo, and then we confirmed that you painted a picture—the gate of a century-old prestigious school."

Jiang Ruotang closed his eyes. Ah, now he got it.

After returning home, Jiang Ruotang invited Mu Xianqing into his studio, turned on the light, and handed him the painting to look at.

Mu Xianqing rested his chin on his hand, completely engrossed.

Jiang Ruotang went downstairs to brew him a cup of coffee and brought it up, only to find Mu Xianqing still in the same pose.

"What’s wrong? This is just the gate of Capital Sci-Tech University, nothing particularly special in technique. You’re not really looking at the painting—you’re just daydreaming, aren’t you?" Jiang Ruotang said with a laugh.

"I was just thinking, why does painting the gate of this century-old school make me feel like you’re painting a lover?"

Jiang Ruotang froze. That was because while painting it, he had been thinking about Lu Guifan, who would frequently pass through this gate after acing the gaokao.

"Tranquil yet deep, with a quiet yet wise feeling. What you’ve depicted doesn’t look like a gate—it looks like someone." Mu Xianqing turned around. "Don’t tell me this painting is also not for sale."

"Not exactly. But if someone wants to see the gate of Capital Sci-Tech University, couldn’t they just search for it online?" Jiang Ruotang joked.

"But the gate in your painting is special." Mu Xianqing smiled. "I think this painting should be titled *Depth*—representing both the century-long history of Capital Sci-Tech University and reflecting the gaze and thoughts of that person in your heart."

Jiang Ruotang lowered his eyes and smiled. He had to admit Mu Xianqing was truly his kindred spirit, always able to grasp every subtle emotion in his works.

"You want to handle this painting? Of course, no problem. But you have to do me a favor." Jiang Ruotang curved his lips.

The two schemers shared a grin.

"Shoot, what’s your idea this time?" Mu Xianqing carefully moved the painting aside before picking up his coffee and taking a slow sip.

Jiang Ruotang told Mu Xianqing about his plan to collaborate with Qi Yanze to acquire Sweetberry.

"Neither Mr. Zheng around me nor Qi Yanze’s side can find a suitable person to serve as Sweetberry’s CEO. Brother Mu, you are great at spotting talent and have a wide network. I’d like you to help me find the right candidate."

Mu Xianqing leaned back and snorted. "You didn’t invite me to join when buying Sweetberry, but now that you need a CEO, you remember me?"

Jiang Ruotang looked into Mu Xianqing’s eyes and said seriously, "Because I don’t know if acquiring Sweetberry will ultimately turn it into what I envision. This is my gamble, and Qi Yanze is just playing with family money to prove himself. Though you, Brother Mu, can afford the loss, I still have to be responsible toward you, don’t I?"

"Responsible toward me?" Mu Xianqing laughed. "Are you planning to marry me? My ability to absorb losses is much, much higher than yours."

"Then… consider yourself my last resort. Sweetberry will inevitably encounter unsolvable problems during its development. When that time comes, I’ll have to trouble Brother Mu to save my ass."

Mu Xianqing set down his coffee cup, putting on an angry act. "Then you might as well have let me join from the start, so you wouldn’t have to wait until the snow falls."

Meaning: If Mu Xianqing invests in a project, the investment circles will have to show respect regardless of who’s involved.

Jiang Ruotang, like a scolded puppy, lowered his head, momentarily at a loss for words.

Mu Xianqing immediately relented.

"Fine, children must grow up on their own. Adults can’t take care of everything forever."

Jiang Ruotang smiled at once.

"When you come begging for my help in times of need, one painting won’t be enough to persuade me!"

"If one isn’t enough, I’ll add hotpot and barbecue!"

"Who wants to eat hotpot and barbecue with you?!"

With that, Mu Xianqing rifled through Jiang Ruotang’s studio like a burglar but found nothing else of interest, so he could only carry *Depth* away.

What Mu Xianqing didn’t know was that Jiang Ruotang had secretly hidden a watercolor painting.

It was only the size of a picture frame. Jiang Ruotang placed it in a crystal frame and slipped it into his backpack.

Because of his college prep, Jiang Ruotang hadn’t been seen at school for quite some time.

Many teachers and classmates asked about his test performance, making him the talk of the class for a while.

Geng Yu, sitting behind Lin Lu, nudged his chair with his foot, but Lin Lu didn’t react.

Geng Yu kicked again, and Lin Lu finally turned around slowly, his face cold. "What?"

Pockets dug deep, Geng Yu leaned in with a grin. "Hey, Jiang Ruotang is way more popular than you."

Lin Lu’s eye twitched. "He’s also more popular than you."

Just as he was about to turn back, Geng Yu added, "I’m not jealous or upset. He’s just more charming than I'll ever be—and more real than you."

Lin Lu turned away, clenching his fists. He couldn’t help but glance at Bai Yingchuan, who was looking sideways at Jiang Ruotang, making Lin Lu clench his jaw.

Before the evening study session, Jiang Ruotang distributed gifts he’d brought back from the capital to his friends.

For Jian Sha, it was an autographed book by a certain author. For Cai Ji, a box of sugar-free treats from the capital to share with his grandparents. And for Lu Guifan, a carefully wrapped, slightly heavy item.

Lu Guifan didn’t rush to open it. Only after the evening study session ended and he returned home did he unwrap it—inside was a crystal frame containing a painting.

Lu Guifan lowered his eyes and smiled.

He picked up his phone and, just as expected, saw a message from Jiang Ruotang: [Can you tell what I painted?]

Lu Guifan quickly typed back: [M2-9]

Jiang Ruotang, already showered and leaning against the headboard, frowned at the message. [What’s this? A weapon code?]

Lu Guifan chuckled. [You went to Capital Sci-Tech University’s planetarium, didn’t you?]

Jiang Ruotang: [You could tell?]

Lu Guifan: [Yep. The Butterfly Nebula in Ophiuchus.]

Jiang Ruotang was amazed. Even though Jiang Huaiyuan had watched the planetarium show with him, when he painted it, his father couldn’t recognize it at all and even asked if Jiang Ruotang was turning abstract.

Jiang Ruotang really wanted to fire him as a dad.

But Lu Guifan spotted it immediately.

To capture the nebula’s expelled matter, Jiang Ruotang had opted for more translucent watercolors instead of oils.

The pale purple, blue, green, and red energies blended together, shooting out in two directions to form symmetrical butterfly wings.

Lu Guifan sighed inwardly—though beautiful, it was a star’s final act.

Then, Jiang Ruotang sent another message: [Don’t you think it looks less like butterfly wings and more like two hearts that can’t be separated?]

]

Reading this, Lu Guifan picked up the frame and studied it for a long while before smiling.

[Yes, its core is likely a pair of binary stars in mutual orbit.]

They would never part, even as they exhausted each other’s energy and faded in brilliance.

Jiang Ruotang: [Once you get into Capital Sci-Tech University, let’s go see it together!]

Lu Guifan gently touched the painting through the crystal frame.

Another Monday arrived, and major news outlets, including social media platforms like Big Eyed Boy, were flooded with headlines like “The Happy Home of Millions of Otaku” and “Sweet Fruit.” Clicking in revealed that Sweet Fruit had been taken over by investors, with all debt issues from copyright infringements set to be resolved by the end of the month. Sweet Fruit was poised for a major rebrand, going legit.

Upon seeing the news, Cai Ji, a popular content creator on Sweet Fruit, couldn’t contain his excitement and ate a hearty second helping of rice at lunch that day.

Meanwhile, Jiang Ruotang’s lecture video series grew increasingly polished, and without Lu Guifan even realizing it, he'd gained widespread influence.

Sweet Fruit’s current investment breakdown showed Zheng Huasheng holding 30% on Jiang Ruotang’s behalf, Qi Yanze holding 20%, and to Jiang Ruotang’s surprise, Chen Dan had personally invested 10%.

Jiang Ruotang couldn’t help but ask, “Brother Chen, this is Qi Yanze’s and my first business venture. Aren’t you worried about losing money and ruining our friendship?”

Chen Dan chuckled. “A Ze and I grew up together. He’s full of schemes, but few ever come to fruition. Recently, though, when he explained Sweet Fruit’s development plan, it was surprisingly coherent—much more mature than his impulsive idea to buy it before. He even got me excited. My family runs a production company, but no matter how big we get, we’ll never surpass TV stations, right? A Ze said video platforms might one day become bigger buyers than TV stations. Why wouldn’t I want to get in on that and become part of the buyer's side? Profit or loss, it’s my choice, and I’ll take responsibility for it.”

Hearing this, Chen Dan’s reasoning sounded far more reliable than Qi Yanze’s. Plus, bringing him in meant he could accompany Mr. Zheng in negotiations—one playing the tough role, the other the gentle one. A perfect match.

Next, they needed to recruit a professional team to steer Sweet Fruit onto the right path, expand their content library, and secure funding.

Qi Yanze was now fired up. His so-called buddies, who had promised him 500,000 yuan, had all been tapped out without even needing a bank loan. Suddenly, a large sum of money appeared to acquire licensed properties.

Just then, Mu Xianqing called.

“Kid, I’ve got good news—Gao Cheng, the former deputy CEO of Kirin Video, had a major fallout with the higher-ups and stormed out. He’s planning to raise funds for a new platform. This guy’s the genuine article!”

“Really?”

Jiang Ruotang’s eyes lit up. Gao Cheng wasn’t just experienced in managing video platforms—he was also a top-tier producer.

In his past life, Gao Cheng had struggled for four or five years after leaving Kirin Video. He wanted to go solo but lacked funds and reliable partners. Every time he sought investment, Kirin Video sabotaged him behind the scenes, leaving him in professional purgatory.

Notably, he had once partnered with Lin Chengdong, but their collaboration fell apart in less than three months.

At a dinner party, Jiang Ruotang had overheard Gao Cheng warning a well-known actor, Ling Song, not to trust Lin Chengdong’s promises of lead roles, hinting that many of Lin’s projects were problematic.

An enemy of an enemy was a friend. Anyone who could come out clean from a partnership with Lin Chengdong was no pushover.

Gao Cheng wasn’t the type to be swayed by quick wins.

Jiang Ruotang’s idea was simple: if Sweet Fruit took flight, they’d inevitably produce their own TV shows and animations. Having Gao Cheng on board would save them headaches. Even if he left later, his expertise would set Sweet Fruit on the right track in those critical early years.

Jiang Ruotang shared his thoughts with Mr. Zheng, who arranged a meeting with Gao Cheng.

At first, Gao Cheng was dismissive, seeing Sweet Fruit as just a scrappy little platform surviving in the cracks, a rich kids' pet project.

But when Mr. Zheng outlined Jiang Ruotang’s grand vision, Gao Cheng felt a surge of excitement—like finding a like-minded thinker in a foreign land.

“In the future, TV stations’ demand for dramas will decline. The real platforms will be video sites like these. They may even become the power players in entertainment, far surpassing major production companies—because no matter how big those companies are, their content still needs a platform. But do you really think the market will forever have only Kirin Video and Cloud Maple? If Sweet Fruit posed no threat, why would they sue so aggressively?”

Gao Cheng was intrigued. Building a new platform from the ground up would make attracting users difficult—Sweet Fruit was the ideal springboard.

“Mr. Zheng, you’re skilled in asset management, but video platform operations aren’t your expertise. Who do you really represent?” Gao Cheng decided to get straight to it.

Mr. Zheng hadn’t expected the conversation to reach this point so quickly.

“I’ve done my research. You’re the legal representative of Táng Yùn Culture Investment, and Dai Ming—a high-profile lawyer—is listed as a shareholder. But the two of you are just fronting for somebody else, aren’t you?” Gao Cheng studied Zheng Huasheng carefully.

Gao Cheng was a seasoned professional, not as easily fooled as Qi Yanze.

“Can you guarantee that, regardless of whether we reach an agreement, you won’t disclose the identity of Táng Yùn’s major shareholder?”

“I can promise that.”

Gao Cheng was dying to know. Who could persuade a semi-retired heavyweight like Zheng Huasheng to return to the scene? And how did they get a lawyer like Dai Ming to lend his name to the company? It was a clear message: “We're not to be trifled with.”

The following weekend, Gao Cheng received a ticket to an art exhibition at the city’s arts center.

Zheng Huasheng texted: “President Jiang invites you to the exhibition. Would you join us?”

Gao Cheng felt a spark of interest. A first meeting at an exhibition, not some drinks meeting—this was unusual.

Most industry bosses loved to exaggerate, talking up a 1-million-yuan investment as a billion-yuan boast. Gao Cheng couldn't stand that scene.

An art gallery meant no alcohol, which gave him a slightly better impression of this mysterious “President Jiang.”

He almost asked, “Which President Jiang?” but decided the mystery was half the fun. He mentally ran through industry figures with the surname Jiang but drew a blank—except for a certain renowned director, who, despite his talent, was notoriously bad at business.

So… who was this person?

The day before the exhibition, Gao Cheng got a fresh haircut. The next morning, he dressed in his bespoke suit—the one he wore for black-tie events—shaved off his stubble, took a deep breath, and headed to the gallery.

He’d researched the place beforehand. It showcased works by rising stars in the art world and was run by Mu Xianqing, the youngest son of the powerful Deyi Tianxia empire’s chairman.

This suggested that the person he was meeting had ties to the mighty Deyi Tianxia.

Perhaps “Mr. Jiang” chose this location for its discreet setting, or maybe he genuinely appreciated art—though many wealthy people were just posing.

“Ah, I forgot to ask Mr. Zheng if his boss is a man or a woman.”

They’d agreed to meet at noon on the gallery’s terrace for lunch.

Gao Cheng arrived half an hour early and browsed through the exhibits.

The gallery was tasteful and quiet. It was a weekday, so few visitors were around. Gao Cheng respected art but admitted he didn’t understand it, so he glanced at the displays—until he spotted a watercolor in the corner.

It showed a sunflower in a vase, its vibrant colors contrasting with a sense of melancholy. Though sunlight fell through the window, the flower drooped heavily, two withered petals lying on the table.

Gao Cheng stood before the painting for a long time. He didn’t know the artist, but something in it struck a chord with him.

He felt that the painter must have once been like him, full of ambition to make his mark, but ultimately beaten by the backstabbing and cliques in the real world.

"Do you like this painting?" A young, clear voice sounded beside him.

"I do…" Gao Cheng turned to see a boy in a private high school uniform, his eyes still innocent and his smile pure.

"Because you're like this sunflower—despite having a clear-eyed assessment and mature vision for the industry, you've been suppressed and schemed against for reasons unrelated to your abilities. Even though the industry's future is bright, you've been forced to bow your head?" Jiang Ruotang tilted his head and smiled.

Choosing to meet Gao Cheng today was purely because the last class in the morning was P.E., making it easy to cut class.

Gao Cheng looked at him in disbelief. Could this high school student really be Mr. Zheng's boss?

No chance. No way in hell.

A kid might post videos on Xiaotianguo to express themselves, but they couldn’t possibly have such a profound and detailed vision for a video platform—it was like something out of sci-fi.

Gao Cheng collected himself and said calmly, "Shouldn’t you be in class right now, kid?"

"Shouldn’t you be at work right now, uncle?" Jiang Ruotang grinned.

Gao Cheng was speechless for a moment before replying, "Out of all the paintings in this gallery, this is the only one I can understand."

"So, do you think it’s good or not?" Jiang Ruotang clasped his hands behind his back, his gaze carrying a mischievous glint that made Gao Cheng think, *This kid’s interesting.*

"I personally love it. Using bright colors to express a somber mood—it feels heavy at first glance, but the longer you look, the more you sense hope. This sunflower will lift its head again someday."

"Thank you for the praise, Uncle Gao. A true appreciator is hard to find."

At that, Gao Cheng was certain—this high schooler was the person he’d been waiting for.

"You… you’re…" He almost asked, "Whose son are you?" But something stopped him. Assuming the kid was some rich brat just because he was young felt dismissive. So he changed his question.

"I’m Gao Cheng. May I know your name?"

"My surname is Jiang—Jiang Ruotang. A senior at Beicheng Guangyao Middle School."

"I’m…" Gao Cheng exhaled. "I was the former deputy of Qilin Video, officially given the boot by the board a month ago."

"No worries. Xiaotianguo welcomes you." Jiang Ruotang threw his arms open.

Gao Cheng froze. "So… you bought Xiaotianguo?"

"Technically, not just me. Come on, Uncle Gao, it’s lunchtime. I’m still growing—can’t afford to starve."

This was a novel experience for Gao Cheng. He was used to dealing with scheming tycoons. Collaborating with a high schooler? He’d never even dreamed of it before today.

*Am I insane?*

They sat together on the gallery’s terrace, overlooking a forest of skyscrapers. The view was mediocre, but the sunlight was warm.

Before Gao Cheng could ask more questions, Jiang Ruotang beat him to it: "Uncle Gao, you’re so capable—why did they push you out?"

The kid didn't pull punches. Maybe because he was young, Gao Cheng found himself more tolerant than usual.

"Right now, the entertainment industry is dominated by J-Country and K-Country. They pump out idols left and right, capturing the young fanbase. So Qilin Video planned to license more content from them. Plus, Qilin Pictures—under Qilin Group—wanted to invest in dramas, shelling out crazy money to cast K-Country’s A-listers." Gao Cheng gave a broad overview, leaving out the dirty laundry.

"So you opposed this?" Jiang Ruotang tilted his chin up.

"So you agree with it?" Gao Cheng copied his gesture, thinking that at Jiang Ruotang’s age, with enough funds, he’d probably want to chase whatever's hot too.

"I agree with your opposition." Jiang Ruotang smiled, sunlight filtering through his thick lashes, playful but razor-sharp.

It took Gao Cheng a second to parse that.

Teenagers and their word games.

"Why?" Gao Cheng doubted the kid was just humoring him.

"Because Qilin Group overlooked a critical factor in entertainment—policy." Jiang Ruotang jerked a thumb upward. "K-Country’s government's about to flip next year. Is Qilin Pictures sure the political winds won't shift? One policy change, even a ban, and they’d lose everything. Plus, those stars are overpaid—terrible bang for your buck. You'd get better value from Bai Yingchuan." He waved a hand. "Not because he’s my classmate, but because projects take over a year from shoot to release. Foreign stars are a gamble."

Gao Cheng went still. He’d said the same to Qilin Pictures’ chairman, who wouldn't hear it, insisting politics wouldn't come into play.

"Is this your own analysis?" Gao Cheng asked.

"Of course… Well, I might’ve picked up from my old man."

"Mind if I ask… who is your father?"

"Oh, just Jiang Huaiyuan—all film chops, zero people skills."