Chapter 102: Full of You

Chapter 102: Overflowing with You

At that moment, Lu Guifan came back holding two bottles of mineral water. He unscrewed one and handed it to Jiang Ruotang, then passed the other to Ling Song.

"Thank you," Ling Song said, glancing at Lu Guifan and freezing for a second.

In that brief moment when Lu Guifan lowered his head, Ling Song caught a glimpse of his strikingly handsome features through the black-framed glasses. Combined with his tall, slender figure, Ling Song initially mistook him for a rookie actor being groomed by some agency.

"You didn’t even unscrew the bottle for Ling Song? You’re failing as an assistant," Jiang Ruotang teased.

Lu Guifan’s expression remained calm, but his gaze softened. "I only unscrew bottles for people I like."

"Perfect answer," Jiang Ruotang replied, his eyes crinkling into an even brighter smile.

Only then did Ling Song understand the relationship between the two. Was Jiang Ruotang trying to get his boyfriend cast in his father’s film?

This was all too common in the entertainment industry, especially since Jiang Ruotang had connections. And his boyfriend’s qualifications were indeed impressive.

"Today, Gui Fan and I will be your assistants for the day. We’ll talk business after wrap," Jiang Ruotang announced.

Ling Song hesitated. Assistants? What’s this about?

"No need, I don’t require assistants..."

Jiang Ruotang shook his head helplessly. "You’re getting walked over, yet you still say you don’t need help?"

"Bullied?" Ling Song looked genuinely confused.

Jiang Ruotang tilted his chin toward Cheng Man’s direction. "Cheng Man’s agency is a subsidiary of Cefeng Pictures. Has she been struggling with her scenes, waiting for you to lose your temper? And when you merely suggested she put more emotion into her performance, she started crying? If I’m not mistaken, she’s probably planning to send photos of herself crying in front of you to gossip accounts. By tonight, you’ll be trending—'Nobody actor bullies co-star.'"

Ling Song slowly lowered his head, realization dawning on him.

"It’s fine. Some online hate won’t kill me."

Jiang Ruotang leaned in. "But it does matter. At the very least, I think you need real management to handle these situations."

"Hmm?" Ling Song turned to face him, meeting Jiang Ruotang’s smile.

Before he could dwell on it, Ling Song was called back for the next scene.

Cheng Man’s performance had improved significantly—her emotions were on point, and her lines flowed smoothly. The crew murmured among themselves.

"Director Jiang’s guidance really works. Look how naturally Cheng Man’s acting now!"

"Honestly, I think her earlier struggles might’ve been because Ling Song intimidated her."

"Really? Ling Song seemed plenty patient to me. Cheng Man flubbed five or six times, and he never said anything harsh."

"You don’t know the full story. After wrap yesterday, Cheng Man invited Ling Song for midnight snack. When he declined, she insisted a couple more times, thinking he was just being polite. But Ling Song coldly asked, 'If I don’t go, does that mean we can’t film?' The awkwardness was palpable; it made Cheng Man burst into tears on the spot!"

Jiang Ruotang and Lu Guifan stood silently behind them, listening without comment.

After a while, Lu Guifan spoke. "He really does need a professional agency."

"Right?" Jiang Ruotang’s gaze darkened as he observed the crew’s attitude toward Ling Song.

While Director Jiang and his core team remained focused on filming, the lower-level crew seemed more inclined to cater to Cheng Man—fixing her hair, fetching her drinks, scrambling to find mints the moment she casually mentioned craving them.

It wasn’t surprising. Cheng Man had the backing of Cefeng Pictures, and sucking up to her might lead to future job opportunities. Ling Song, on the other hand, had no clout.

When Ling Song returned from filming, Jiang Ruotang immediately stepped forward with a parasol.

Ling Song was taken aback—no one had treated him with such care on set in a long time, let alone the director’s son.

He instinctively reached for the umbrella, but Lu Guifan took it first.

"Just focus on your script," Lu Guifan said calmly.

Meanwhile, Jiang Ruotang helped adjust Ling Song’s long hair and called the makeup artist over for touch-ups. Noticing Ling Song’s hoarse voice, he even fetched some stereulia tea to brew for him.

Suddenly, Ling Song became the center of attention, with everyone speculating about his relationship with the director’s son.

Nearby, Cheng Man sipped her iced milk tea and peeked past her assistant at the two beside Ling Song. She nudged her chin slightly and whispered, "Look at that glasses-wearing guy holding the umbrella for Ling Song. I thought he just had a great figure, but up close, he’s really handsome!"

The assistant glanced back and murmured, "The one fixing Ling Song’s hair is Director Jiang’s son. The umbrella guy is his friend!"

Cheng Man paused for a few seconds before replying, "I never heard Ling Song was this close to Director Jiang’s son..."

Most nepo babies or directors’ sons were fawned over on set—no one had ever seen one like Jiang Ruotang, who went out of his way to tend to a nobody actor.

This made Cheng Man play it safe in her next scene. She relayed the incident to her agent.

Her agent, a sharp cookie, mused, "I’ve heard Director Jiang dotes on his son despite being strict on set. If his son is being this attentive to Ling Song, he might have a crush on him. Rumor has it, back when Jiang Ruotang was infatuated with Bai Yingchuan, his methods of buying his way to the top and promoting outshone most agents. Seems like Bai Yingchuan’s fallen out of favor now!"

Though Cheng Man had initially wanted to butter up Han Ming, this analysis gave her cold feet. "Then... let’s sit on those photos for now. We’ll play it by ear."

And just like that, without Ling Song even realizing it, the hit piece against him was temporarily put on ice.

By the time night filming wrapped up, it was already 10 p.m.

After removing his wig and makeup, Ling Song finally finished at 11 p.m.

As he stood up from his chair, he turned to find Lu Guifan leaning against the wall, still sitting ramrod straight, while Jiang Ruotang was out cold on his shoulder.

Ling Song sighed. "You really didn’t have to wait for me. If there’s something to discuss, we could’ve done it tomorrow morning."

Lu Guifan replied, "We promised to be your assistants for the day. Cutting it short by even an hour, a minute, or a second wouldn’t count as a full day."

His tone nailed how Jiang Ruotang would’ve said it.

Ling Song looked down. "You seem like a level-headed guy. Didn’t expect you to play along in this game."

Lu Guifan glanced at Jiang Ruotang’s sleeping face, his expression soft but serious. "He’s a serious person."

For some reason, Lu Guifan had a trustworthy vibe, making Ling Song believe their visit actually meant business.

"So, what’s the reason for being my assistants today? Research, or trying to get in good with me?" Ling Song asked.

"I’d say it’s to protect you," Lu Guifan answered.

"Protect me?" Ling Song’s expression remained blank, but his eyes seemed to say, "This oughta be good."

Lu Guifan continued calmly, "You don’t actually think Cheng Man crying today was just an accident, do you?"

"I know she was acting. Her skills aren’t her strong suit."

Lu Guifan checked the time on his phone. "Yet, there’s no news online about you bullying an actress into tears. Isn’t that because our presence made Cheng Man wary of your connection to the Jiang family, making her think twice?"

"She can smear me if she wants. It's not the first time I've been smeared." Ling Song's eyes held a trace of indifference.

After going through this so many times, he was nearly numb to them.

"True. Once Ruo Tang and I leave, that piece will probably drop," Lu Guifan said, one hand still cupped lightly over Jiang Ruotang's face, shielding him from the light in the dressing room. "But Mr. Ling, do you have to turn down every offer of help, every resource, every connection? Or do you take pride in isolating yourself yet still managing to keep your head above water in this business?"

Lu Guifan's voice was all calm, laying down the hardest truths.

"Ruo Tang came to you for collaboration. He does like men, but he has me now—you're not his type. So don’t worry about him pulling some overbearing CEO noncon trope like Han Ming. He’s never rubbed his help in your face, but deep down, you must know that going from background extra to leading man wouldn’t have been possible without Ruo Tang advocating for you in front of Director Jiang. You need people in your corner, allies, and a team where everybody brings their A-game—you focus on acting, while they handle negotiations, resources, and protecting your reputation."

Ling Song had thought about all this before.

But to him, a team like that seemed as real as a mirage—fleeting and unreal, nothing more than a dream.

"It's late now. How about we talk tomorrow morning?" Lu Guifan suggested.

"Fine. I’d also like to hear what Jiang Ruotang has planned."

"Let’s make it ten o’clock then. No need to get up at the crack of dawn. We all need proper rest."

Truthfully, Lu Guifan knew that after today’s exhaustion, Jiang Ruotang wouldn’t wake up before eight no matter what.

He turned, looped Jiang Ruotang’s arms over his shoulders, and hoisted him up easily before walking out of the dressing room.

"Do you live alone?" Lu Guifan asked at the door.

"Yes." Ling Song nodded.

It was only after scoring the lead role that he’d earned such treatment.

"Then let’s meet in your room. The areas near the film set are too crowded—zero privacy to be had."

Ling Song paused, then nodded. "Alright."

With that, Lu Guifan made for the bike racks with Jiang Ruotang in tow, where Jiang Huaiyuan already had a driver waiting to run them back to the hotel.

The night air still held summer's heat. By all rights, pressed skin-to-skin like this, they should have felt hot—yet Jiang Ruotang only wanted to cling tighter.

Truthfully, Jiang Ruotang had woken up during Ling Song and Lu Guifan’s conversation, but he'd been too curious about Lu Guifan's words to let on he was awake.

Gradually, Lu Guifan caught on to his game.

Because Jiang Ruotang was being mischievous.

At first, he started by nosing at Lu Guifan’s neck. When that got no rise out of him, he escalated—brushing his lips there.

Still getting no response, he started sucking, dead set on leaving his mark.

"Ruo Tang." Lu Guifan stopped. The streetlight cast a glow over their shoulders. At this hour, the usually bustling film set had fallen completely silent, making those two words ring out clear—even the helpless fondness in it unmistakably reached Jiang Ruotang’s mind.

"What?" Jiang Ruotang mouthed at Lu Guifan’s shoulder, deliberately letting his breath linger against the other’s neck.

"That tickles."

With that, Lu Guifan resumed walking.

Though he couldn’t see it, Jiang Ruotang grinned wolfishly before biting down on the slightly reddened spot he’d just kissed.

"How about now? Still ticklish?"

As he spoke, he kicked his dangling feet like a kid.

Lu Guifan replied, "You’re too soft. If it were me, I’d bite until you cried."

Hearing that, Jiang Ruotang had a bad feeling and instantly behaved.

"Thanks for your opening line with Ling Song."

Jiang Ruotang had been wondering how to bring up signing Ling Song without setting off his alarms—what with Han Ming having left him gun-shy.

"Don’t mention it. Can’t have you tooting your own horn while making the pitch. Let me sing your praises. I’ve got no silver tongue, but luckily, Ling Song seems to prefer straightforward communication."

"Mhm." Jiang Ruotang teased, "As long as you’re not mad I’m promoting another man."

"Half the world’s population is male. Unless I lock you in a world with only me, I’d be angry every second. And..."

"And what?" Jiang Ruotang leaned forward, trying to see Lu Guifan’s expression.

He waited, but Lu Guifan never finished that sentence.

Only when they reached the parking area and Lu Guifan set him down did Jiang Ruotang glare impatiently—demanding the rest.

Lu Guifan sighed. "And if your heart ever changes... I’ll feel it."

"Then make sure to keep this handsome face and the abs I love. No going bald from late-night research or growing a belly from sitting too long. Then I’ll probably love you forever."

Lu Guifan covered his face with one hand, watching as Jiang Ruotang, acting every inch the spoiled prince, climbed onto the electric bike.

Back in their hotel room, the summer stickiness sent them both straight to the shower.

Lu Guifan leaned against the headboard, scrolling through research reports Professor Yang had sent. Jiang Ruotang, rubbing at his hair with a towel, approached. Lu Guifan expected him to lie down beside him—even prepared to pull him close—but instead, the little menace lifted the covers, crawled up from the foot of the bed, and deliberately rubbed against Lu Guifan’s legs through his sleep pants, like a vixen working for attention.

Lu Guifan pretended not to notice, suppressing a smile as he kept reading, waiting to see what Jiang Ruotang would try next.

Then Jiang Ruotang sprawled over his abdomen, his hot breath bleeding through the fabric, raising goosebumps—until suddenly, he felt the drawstring of his pants being tugged loose by teeth.

His heart lurched, nearly bucking up and cracking skulls. Instead, Lu Guifan cupped the other’s face, playing at scolding as he squeezed his cheeks. "What are you doing?"

"Just looking."

"At what?"

Lu Guifan’s voice was calm, but his pulse raced, his throat tight with tension.

"Little boat." [Chinese slang for male genitalia]

"Why should I show you?"

"Because you’re my boyfriend. I've got full spousal privileges."

Jiang Ruotang’s brazen-as-you-please look left Lu Guifan torn between exasperation and amusement—but beneath that, something hotter surged up from the deep, threatening to boil over.

Just as Jiang Ruotang expected Lu Guifan to sternly push his head away, the other spoke instead:

"Fine. But you better not peek and retreat."

"What's the big deal? Why would I run?"

I’ve eaten more salt in two lifetimes than you’ve eaten rice. [Chinese idiom meaning greater life experience]

Jiang Ruotang was overflowing with confidence, dead certain he could remain unfazed even if Mount Tai came crashing down.

Lu Guifan eased back against the headboard, watching Jiang Ruotang with a casual air and said calmly, "Suit yourself."

Jiang Ruotang immediately lit up, like a child unwrapping a long-awaited gift—only to go completely still.

An awkward silence settled between them. Suddenly, Jiang Ruotang wasn’t sure what to do next.

Lu Guifan studied Jiang Ruotang’s expression carefully. He knew Jiang was a total chicken deep down, but the way he looked now made Lu Guifan second-guess himself.

Maybe some things were best kept mysterious.

Taking a deep breath, Lu Guifan slightly bent his knee, intending to push Jiang Ruotang away—only for the other to suddenly exclaim, "This is no small boat!"

My tiny harbor could never anchor something like this!

Lu Guifan snatched the blanket over himself and said dryly, "Sorry, I’m not the luxury yacht you imagined."

"Luxury yacht? What kind of misunderstanding do you have about yachts? This is a damn battleship!"

With that, Jiang Ruotang tugged the blanket back, refusing to let him cover up.

"Ruo Tang, you—"

"Don’t hog it. Let me look a little longer. Mine now!"

Lu Guifan broke into a laugh, though he still didn’t give him another peek. Instead, he sat up straight, gently wrapping an arm around Jiang Ruotang’s waist. Tilting his head slightly, he looked at him and said, "I happened to learn some new kissing techniques. Not sure if they’re any good—want to test them out and give me some feedback?"

"Ah… how did you learn?"

"Read up on it." Lu Guifan’s nose brushed lightly against Jiang Ruotang’s pajamas, making his cheeks flush.

"Just… read up on it? And it improved your kissing skills? I don’t believe it."

"If you don’t believe it, why do you keep insisting I only read research papers?" Lu Guifan turned his face closer, his amber eyes softening Jiang Ruotang’s heart.

Though he wanted it badly, Jiang Ruotang wondered if he should play hard to get, just to tease Lu Guifan.

"Then maybe not. You should research some more—"

"Hands-on learning."

With that, Lu Guifan’s knuckle grazed Jiang Ruotang’s upper lip, lingering at the seam before giving him a devilish grin.

Jiang Ruotang’s brain short-circuited. That smirk was downright wicked, sending his blood rushing toward his heart, threatening to burst.

"Bring it on! East wind blowing, war drums rolling, who’s afraid of a little temptation? Game on!"

No sooner had he finished his bold declaration than Lu Guifan had him flat on his back, kissing him senseless.

When it came to kissing, Lu Guifan seemed like a natural, leaving Jiang Ruotang’s eyes wet at the corners.

Just as Jiang Ruotang tried to fight back, Lu Guifan pinched his nose—not hard, but enough to make him gasp. And then, it was total takeover, Jiang Ruotang’s defenses crumbling completely.

He had way underestimated Lu Guifan’s ability to learn from research. That’s a straight-A student for you—just a little theory could unleash immense power.

Jiang Ruotang was no match for him. His breathing and heartbeat were a wreck, leaving him no choice but to grab a pillow and bury his face in it.

To make matters worse, Lu Guifan deliberately leaned in, pulling the pillow away to whisper against his ear, "How was my technique?"

Jiang Ruotang curled up like a shrimp, wrapping himself in the blanket—now a shrimp rice roll.

"Mm-hmm…"

"I can’t hear you."

"Then forget it!"

Lu Guifan chuckled softly. If charm had a score, Jiang Ruotang would have given him full extra points—his voice was downright magnetic.

Turning his head, Jiang Ruotang spotted the black glasses lying on the pillow. Against his will, his mind replayed the earlier scene—the frames askew, pushed up and tilted to the side—sending another fierce jolt through his chest.

By the time Lu Guifan returned, he carried a hint of mint.

Jiang Ruotang immediately clung to him, eagerly diving for his upper lip, giving it a few light sucks.

"Seems like my research paid off. The young master approves."

"You should keep improving—up your game!" Jiang Ruotang mumbled into Lu Guifan’s chest, forehead pressed against him.

"Mhm. Your happiness is my mission."

Truthfully, Lu Guifan had been painstakingly gentle earlier, afraid of hurting Jiang Ruotang. If he left a bad impression or worse, some kind of emotional scars, Jiang might never let him touch him again.

But he wanted Jiang Ruotang so badly—dominating his emotions, stoking his desire, watching him unravel—it all filled Lu Guifan with pure glee.

"Next time, teach me too," Jiang Ruotang said.

"That, I can’t teach."

"Why not?" Jiang Ruotang lifted his eyes.

Lu Guifan’s nose traced the curve of Jiang Ruotang’s ear as he murmured, "It’s a gift. You have to figure it out yourself."

"Think you’re hot stuff? If you’re so talented, learn something even more impressive."

"Like what?"

"Aren’t you gifted? Figure it out yourself!"

Jiang Ruotang said it lightly, but his mind was already racing with wild ideas. Glancing back, he saw Lu Guifan deep in thought, as if solving a PhD thesis—it was hilarious. Leaning in, he whispered a few words into Lu Guifan’s ear, and suddenly, Lu Guifan’s shoulders tensed. The man who had been in complete control moments ago was now visibly flustered. Jiang Ruotang felt he’d finally got payback.

Having woken up early that day, Jiang Ruotang was exhausted. Clutching the blanket, he turned over and fell right back asleep.

Lu Guifan glanced at him, watching his blissed-out face, and could only sigh.

After a while, when his mind had settled, Lu Guifan realized something felt off—his arms were empty. So he hooked a hand around Jiang Ruotang’s shoulder and pulled him back.

"Hm?" Jiang Ruotang made a disgruntled noise.

Lu Guifan said coolly, "Now that you’ve had your way, you don’t care anymore?"

"I care… I care…" Mumbling, Jiang Ruotang reached out and hugged him, quickly drifting back to sleep.

"Liar."

The next morning, Jiang Ruotang was jolted awake by his phone alarm.

He cracked one eye open, ruffled his hair, and found himself face-to-face with Lu Guifan’s profile. Without the black-framed glasses in the way, the man’s side view was unfairly handsome.

Wait? Doesn't Lu Guifan usually wake up early?

How is he still asleep at eight?

Jiang Ruotang grinned mischievously and was about to lean over to bite the tip of Lu Guifan's nose when suddenly, Lu Guifan's eyes snapped open.

In the past, whenever Jiang Ruotang read descriptions in novels or scripts like "like a butterfly spreading its wings" or "black crow feathers trembling as they slowly unfurled," he found them corny. But now, looking into Lu Guifan's eyes, he felt those descriptions weren’t even detailed enough.

"Get up. Ling Song has a shoot this afternoon, and our morning time is limited."

Lu Guifan sat up, mussed up Jiang Ruotang's hair, and went to wash up.

Jiang Ruotang remained seated cross-legged, propping his chin on his hand, pouting as he glared at the bathroom.

What happened to the legendary morning cuddles? Not even a morning kiss?

Just as Jiang Ruotang frowned, lost in thought about where he’d lost his charm, Lu Guifan finished washing up and returned, sitting down on the edge of the bed.

"Young master, I've prepared your toothpaste and water cup for you."

"Fine." Jiang Ruotang grumpily turned around and bent down to search for his slippers.

Lu Guifan leaned over, stretched out his arm, and effortlessly found the slippers, slipping them onto Jiang Ruotang's left foot. His palm even lifted slightly, and he shot Jiang Ruotang a grin.

Seeing a handsome guy smile at him first thing in the morning, Jiang Ruotang thought, *Alright, I’ll let your cluelessness slide.*

But the next second, Jiang Ruotang was kissed, Lu Guifan's tongue teasing his upper lip, the refreshing taste of mint instantly spreading.

"Toothpaste is squeezed, water cup is filled—go wash up. I made an appointment with Ling Song for ten. He’s the punctual type, and if you’re late, you’ll leave a bad impression."

"Got it."

Jiang Ruotang trudged to the bathroom in his slippers, brushing his teeth while thinking, *So this is what having a boyfriend feels like.*

It was so nice. It felt like he could forever be a child in front of Lu Guifan, looked after, and whenever he wanted something sweet, the other would indulge him.

After washing up, they had a light breakfast at the hotel restaurant. Lu Guifan rented an e-scooter and drove toward Ling Song's hotel.

Jiang Ruotang leaned back lazily, watching Lu Guifan. The way he handled the scooter was so cool—probably because when you like someone, even swinging a broom looks cool.

"Hey, when did you learn to drive?"

"I didn’t. You don’t need a license for an e-scooter."

"Then why do you seem like such a natural?"

As soon as he said it, Jiang Ruotang realized the double entendre.

But last night, Lu Guifan’s skills had nearly made him pass out. If he didn’t know the guy’s character, Jiang Ruotang would’ve thought he was a real pro.

"There’s still some time before university starts. I should probably get a driver’s license," Lu Guifan said, glancing at Jiang Ruotang with a smile.

The wind played with his hair, making him look ridiculously handsome. Jiang Ruotang wanted to cling to him again but held back for safety.

"Getting a license—are you buying a car?"

"Yeah. The capital’s huge. The subway’s handy, but packed. Driving would be easier. And if you ever want to go sketching outside the city, I can drive you."

Jiang Ruotang grinned. "Yeah! And the car’s good for other things too!"

Lu Guifan sighed, bopping Jiang Ruotang’s forehead with one hand. "What’s going on in that head of yours?"

"Only you."

"So I’m nonsense now?"

Jiang Ruotang’s little fangs peeked out as he laughed. "Yep! In my heart, you’re the absolute worst!"

Lu Guifan chuckled, then suddenly accelerated, sending Jiang Ruotang’s head snapping back.

At 9:40, they arrived at the crew’s hotel and went to Ling Song’s room.

When the door opened, Ling Song was already dressed in a shirt and casual pants, looking put-together.

Though he had a single room as the male lead, it was on the second floor with so-so soundproofing and not much space.

Word was the best rooms in the hotel were given to Cheng Man, her assistants, and makeup artists.

Ling Song wasn’t fussy—this single room was already a huge step up from the rundown place he’d lived in before in the urban village.

Perhaps knowing Jiang Ruotang would visit, he’d tidied up, neatly organizing his things.

The kettle was steaming—he’d put on tea.

"My place is simple, and I have a shoot this afternoon, so I don’t have time to go out and buy anything to treat you two."

Ling Song placed some snacks the crew had given him on the table—peanuts, roasted broad beans, stuff Jiang Ruotang would likely ignore. But with nothing else to offer, he set them out anyway.

To his surprise, Jiang Ruotang actually ripped open a bag, tilted his head back to pour the contents into his mouth, and then asked, "Got any spicy snacks?"

Ling Song paused. "No..."

"Then I’ll get straight to it and talk business."

"Okay."

For some reason, Ling Song felt nervous.

He knew the industry was full of broken promises, but for some inexplicable reason, he had expectations of Jiang Ruotang.

Maybe it was because of the painting Jiang Ruotang had sent him—it made Ling Song feel seen.

"Here’s the deal. A few of us in the industry have started a film company. We’re still handling the paperwork. We’re not planning to sign those overpaid celebrities. Instead, we want to train our own actors to avoid situations like my dad’s—where the male lead throws a wrench in things last minute. The other partners also want to sign actors who are serious about their craft and can grow into strong performers. So we all agree—we want you."

Ling Song’s usually cold face showed rare resignation. "The problem is, Han Ming’s Cefeng Pictures is closely tied to Universe Pictures. If you sign me... aren’t you afraid of provoking Han Ming? It’s unnecessary conflict. Wouldn’t it be better to pick younger, more controllable newcomers? I’m not exactly the obedient type."

"You’re not obedient because you have your own ideas and know what you want. As for Han Ming... he’s nothing to worry about. Our new talent agency’s biggest shareholder is Qi Yanfeng from Hongtian Borui, followed by me—don’t underestimate me, I’ve got money.

"The third-largest shareholder is Chen Qian, the eldest daughter of the Chen family from Red City Pictures."

Chen Qian was Chen Dan’s older sister. Both siblings were experts at networking and building connections—shrewd but principled and loyal.

Chen Dan was busy with promotions for *Little Sweet Fruit* and had become a human spinning top.

When his sister Chen Qian heard about his plans to start a talent agency, she immediately slapped her thigh and jumped on board.

Hearing this, Ling Song felt relieved, as Chicheng Film also had no business ties with Han Ming—in fact, they were sometimes competitors.

The Chen family wouldn’t be coerced by Han Ming.

"The last shareholder only invested a small amount. We brought him in mainly to leverage his reputation," Jiang Ruotang said with a chuckle.

"Who is it?"

"Mu Xianqing from Deyi Tianxia. With his shares, no matter what roles we secure for you, Han Ming won’t dare to try any shady moves—after all, he wouldn’t want to go against Mu Xianqing either." Jiang Ruotang spread his hands with a smile.

At this point, Ling Song got the picture.

This brokerage company truly had formidable backing.

But still...

Noticing Ling Song’s thoughtful silence, Jiang Ruotang grinned. "Worried that this brokerage company might create another Han Ming situation? Or that we’d sell you out to someone like him for profit?"

Ling Song remained silent in response.

Leaning back in his chair, Jiang Ruotang chuckled. "Even if I promised you such a thing wouldn’t happen, that wouldn’t be realistic. Character is the last thing anyone can guarantee. If you sign with us, you’ll be the company’s first artist. Resources will be heavily focused on you in the short term. If you seize these opportunities and become the company’s pillar, even if you wanted to give in to someone like Han Ming, the company would hold onto you tight—their cash cow—and talk you out of it, wouldn’t they?"

Ling Song couldn't deny he was sold.