Chapter 104: The Transformation of Sweet Fruit

Chapter 104: Sweetheart’s Transformation

Director Zhang smiled with satisfaction. "I’ll let you finish unpacking. If you need anything, just let the department know."

Next, Director Zhang shook hands with Zhao Yunshu at the dormitory door, praising her and her husband for raising such an outstanding child.

After a long silence, Ding Bing suddenly spoke up in the dormitory. "Jiang Ruotang… the *Asia New Star Awards*… That’s a pan-Asian art award. You’re already a renowned painter, aren’t you?"

Lu Guifan chuckled and lightly tapped Jiang Ruotang’s forehead with his fingertip.

"No need to envy others. You’ve already achieved remarkable things."

Jiang Ruotang rubbed his forehead, feeling a little embarrassed.

Another roommate, Lü An, muttered under his breath, "Even Director Jiang’s connections can’t extend to an Asia-level art exhibition, can it?"

Cui He, already awkward, felt like the jab hit too close to home, making his ears burn red.

Once everything was settled, Jiang Ruotang announced their next stop—Capital Tech—to visit Lu Guifan and Zhao Zhangfeng’s dorm.

After they left, the three remaining roommates were still uncomfortable.

Lü An spoke bluntly again, "I’ll bet you fifty cents Jiang Ruotang overheard us talking about him outside the door."

"So what if he did? We didn’t say anything bad," Cui He retorted, though his tone lacked conviction.

Ding Bing sighed. "Just because Jiang Ruotang comes from a well-connected family, you immediately assumed his award was due to his father’s connections. That’s a disrespectful assumption. Personally… I love painting, but I don’t have extraordinary talent. If it weren’t for my high academic scores and an exceptional performance during the entrance exam, I wouldn’t have gotten in either. So I don’t envy Jiang Ruotang—on the contrary, I’m glad to study alongside such a genius."

Lü An added, "You are who you associate with. Maybe spending more time with Jiang Ruotang will help us pick up some tricks too?"

"Alright, alright, I get it," Cui He conceded, realizing he’d sounded jealous.

After university registration came military training.

The training wasn’t held on campus but at an off-site training camp in the suburbs. A single room housed over a dozen boys, with lukewarm showers. The smell in the room was so unbearable Jiang Ruotang felt like he might just drop dead.

The late-summer sun was relentless. No amount of sunscreen could save Jiang Ruotang from its wrath—his neck was caked with salt from dried sweat. By mealtime, he had no energy left, listlessly pushing around bland rice until someone placed a bowl of pork and glass noodles in front of him.

"Even if you’re not hungry, you should eat some meat. Otherwise, you’ll have no strength for the afternoon."

Jiang Ruotang lifted his head, chopsticks in hand, and was surprised to see Cui He.

The guy set the bowl down and left without another word. Jiang Ruotang lowered his eyes and smiled. He knew this was Cui He’s way of apologizing; too proud to say sorry outright, but at least he’d scrambled to get him a bowl of meat.

From 7 to 8 p.m. was downtime, when students could stroll around the field. Naturally, Jiang Ruotang couldn’t wait to call Lu Guifan.

Used to being together every day, Jiang Ruotang hadn’t seen Lu Guifan’s face since training started, leaving him feeling empty inside.

"Hey, Ruo Tang?" Lu Guifan’s voice came through the phone, instantly softening Jiang Ruotang’s heart. He longed to bury his face in Lu Guifan’s neck and breathe in his scent.

"My nape got sunburned today. I just got medicated cream from the clinic. So many people got burned that there was a line for medicine."

Lu Guifan didn’t respond, but he heaved a long sigh.

"After drill posture, we had to practice low-crawl drills. My knees are bruised. Then in the afternoon, we had rucksack marches—my arms were shaking so much I couldn’t even hold chopsticks."

"Ruo Tang…" Lu Guifan started but couldn’t find the right words to comfort him.

"Does it make you ache?"

"It hurts a lot."

"If it hurts you, then I feel better." Jiang Ruotang grinned mischievously, though the other couldn’t see it.

Had they been training together, Jiang Ruotang would’ve been happy even rolling around in mud.

Rumor had it Zhao Zhangfeng was the standout during military training—tall, athletic, effortlessly agile over obstacles. The drill instructors loved playing basketball with him and even took him target shooting. In short, he was the kind of guy who turned heads wherever he went; even the toilets flipped their lids for him.

Jiang Ruotang snickered at the thought.

"I really want to see you in camo gear," he said.

"You’ve seen me in it during high school training, haven’t you?"

"I don’t remember what you looked like."

Jiang Ruotang felt a twinge of guilt. Back in their first year of high school, Lu Guifan had been all business and no warmth, radiating an aura that could kill the mood—definitely not his type back then.

"You don’t remember because you didn’t like me at all," Lu Guifan cut straight to the truth.

Jiang Ruotang rubbed the tip of his nose. "But I like you a lot now. How about you send me a photo of you in camo gear so I can admire it?"

"Sure," Lu Guifan replied, laughter in his voice.

"Wait—don’t take it yourself. Do you… have any female classmates who are good at photography? Ask one of them to take it for you."

Jiang Ruotang could already imagine Lu Guifan haphazardly snapping selfies, making his handsome features look all wrong.

Lu Guifan chuckled softly, the sound sending an electric tingle through Jiang Ruotang.

"No need. The school press corps took some. I’ll send them to you."

Before long, several photos arrived.

Lu Guifan’s tall, upright posture, sharp features, and set jaw were radiating testosterone.

They even had a low-crawl drill in their training. Jiang Ruotang’s commentary on one particular photo made Lu Guifan’s ears burn.

"Wow, your waist looks so strong, and your ass looks rock-solid!"

"You’re talking nonsense again."

"It’s an objective assessment!"

That night, lying in his training dorm surrounded by snores, Lu Guifan found himself replaying Jiang Ruotang’s words.

Suddenly realizing he’d been shortchanged, he texted: [Where’s your photo?]

Jiang Ruotang: [Hold on, I’ll send you a spicy one!]

A picture followed—racy curves and shadowplay that nearly blue-screened Lu Guifan’s mind, sending his blood boiling uncontrollably.

But after a moment, he realized it was just Jiang Ruotang’s hand, fingers curled to create a trick of the light with the shadows between them.

He was truly a menace.

So wicked Lu Guifan wanted to mark him up.

By the end of training, Jiang Ruotang—formerly porcelain-pale—had gained a deep tan, his muscles now cut. On his first day back in the dorm, he studied his reflection and preened. "Damn, my jawline is sharp."

He put on his pre-military training T-shirt, only to find it hung looser—apparently, he had lost some weight.

Zhao Zhangfeng found a great little restaurant for their gathering. The group of five reunited, each sporting new tans, and shared their boot camp stories.

"Sister Sha, how come you didn’t get tanned at all under that blazing sun? What brand of sunscreen did you use?" Jiang Ruotang asked curiously.

Jian Sha sighed and pointed to her knee, where everyone noticed a piece of gauze.

"I paid for this with both knees on the ground!"

It turned out that on the first day of military training, when everyone was dismissed for lunch, Jian Sha was pushed from behind by an overeager classmate. She stumbled and fell to her knees, cutting herself on gravel that took six stitches. With stitches in place, she couldn’t risk sweating or exercising to avoid infection.

So, Jian Sha spent two weeks in the cafeteria peeling mountains of potatoes and onions.

"Smell this! Smell my hands—they’re reeking of onions!" She waved her hands in front of everyone.

Suddenly, everyone recoiled in sync, except for Cai Ji, who wasn’t quick enough and sneezed repeatedly.

Zhao Zhangfeng glanced at Jiang Ruotang and said, "You do look a lot more toned!"

"Don’t even mention it. Anyone who stood improperly at attention, climbed obstacles too slowly, or didn’t dress properly for late-night roll calls got punished—either with pull-ups or push-ups. I was forced into working out, and now my abs are actually visible now!"

"I don’t believe it! Show me! You’re definitely exaggerating!" Zhao Zhangfeng immediately leaned in, shamelessly going for Jiang Ruotang’s T-shirt.

Unexpectedly, Lu Guifan, sitting on the other side, suddenly reached out and firmly placed his palm on Jiang Ruotang’s abdomen. The warmth from his hand seeped through the fabric, sending a wave of butterflies through Jiang Ruotang.

"There’s air conditioning here—you’ll get chilled," Lu Guifan said.

"It’s not like exposing your belly button will make you sick like a kid!" Zhao Zhangfeng tugged again, but Lu Guifan held firm, his gaze cool as he stared at Zhao Zhangfeng.

Though Zhao Zhangfeng feared nothing, he owed his admission to Capital University of Science and Technology largely to Lu Guifan. It was as if Lu Guifan naturally outmatched him in presence. Reluctantly, Zhao Zhangfeng withdrew his hand and stubbornly said, "Your abs must be fake!"

"Suit yourself," Jiang Ruotang shrugged.

He and Lu Guifan hadn’t seen each other in so long. Seizing the moment, he calmly placed his hand over Lu Guifan’s and gave it a light squeeze.

Meanwhile, Jian Sha, sitting across the table, froze for a moment before slowly breaking into a smile.

After the meal, everyone was stuffed. Zhao Zhangfeng dragged Cai Ji off to an internet café to dominate games as a duo.

Jian Sha smiled and said, "You two, come shopping with me at the supermarket and be my shopping sherpas?"

Jiang Ruotang was about to ask if Lu Guifan had time, but before he could, Lu Guifan nodded and said, "Sure, we’ll go with you. I need to buy some daily essentials anyway."

Daily essentials?

Jiang Ruotang gave Lu Guifan a suspicious look. Hadn’t they already bought everything when he saw him off to school?

They went to a nearby large chain supermarket. Jian Sha pushed a cart, but to Jiang Ruotang’s surprise, Lu Guifan grabbed another one and tilted his chin, signaling that pushing the cart for the lady was Jiang Ruotang’s job.

Jiang Ruotang accompanied Jian Sha as she picked out snacks and fruit. When they reached the household goods section, he noticed Lu Guifan had wandered off to the bedding area, comparing different bedding sets and pillows.

"What are you doing?" Jiang Ruotang asked curiously as he approached.

"These are all pure cotton, and I’ve checked the sizes. You like chestnut brown, right?" Lu Guifan asked.

Jiang Ruotang nodded dumbly as Lu Guifan placed the sheet set into the cart.

"What about pillows? Do you prefer fluffy and soft ones, or orthopedic ones?"

"Supportive ones…"

Jiang Ruotang still didn’t understand why Lu Guifan was suddenly buying bedding. Was he preparing for Jiang Ruotang to stay over at his dorm?

But Lu Guifan’s dorm probably didn’t allow overnight guests, and the beds were narrow. If they had to share, Jiang Ruotang would probably end up lying on top of Lu Guifan…

Actually, that didn’t sound too bad?

Seeing Jiang Ruotang spacing out, Lu Guifan wondered what nonsense was running through his mind. Unfortunately, he couldn’t read Jiang Ruotang’s mind to find out.

"Let’s get two decorative pillows too," Lu Guifan said, gently gripping the back of Jiang Ruotang’s neck and nudging him forward.

This only deepened Jiang Ruotang’s confusion. Two decorative pillows in a dorm room? There wasn’t even enough space…

In the household goods section, Lu Guifan even started looking at toothbrush cups, holding up a pair of blue plastic ones and asking, "Are these okay?"

Jiang Ruotang knew Lu Guifan was a pragmatist, but this was just totally basic…

Before he could answer, Jian Sha nixed it right away. "No—they’re not cute at all!"

She then picked up a pair of cups that could be joined together—one side read "Love you more every day," and the other, "Happier every day." "These are perfect for you two!"

Both Lu Guifan and Jiang Ruotang froze. Was Sister Sha shipping them, or had she figured them out?

"Is this an alpha and omega dynamic?" Jiang Ruotang asked.

Jian Sha placed the cups in her cart and said matter-of-factly, "This is a Jiang Ruotang and Lu Guifan dynamic! I got a nice bonus this month, so I’m buying these cups for you!"

Jiang Ruotang and Lu Guifan exchanged a smile.

Seemed like they had Sister Sha’s blessing.

Carrying bags of groceries, they walked Jian Sha back to her dorm. About a hundred feet from the building, they stopped—there was no way she could schlep all that toilet paper, hand soap, and a carton of milk inside by herself.

Lu Guifan and Jiang Ruotang went to the dorm supervisor, showed their student IDs, registered as visitors, and then delivered Jian Sha’s purchases right to her door.

After they left, Jian Sha’s roommates bombarded her with questions.

"Sha Sha! Who were those two handsome guys? They were so nice to you—is one of them your boyfriend?"

"Or does he love you, and you love the other one?"

Jian Sha grinned and replied, "Actually, he loves him, and he loves him too."

"What?"

Her roommates were utterly confused by the he said/he said.

When they reached the gate of Huawen University, they got into a waiting taxi with an overflowing trunk. Lu Guifan gave the driver the name of an apartment complex.

Only then did Jiang Ruotang realize what was happening. Lighting up, he looked at Lu Guifan and asked, "You got the apartment? Already?"

"There’s still some paperwork left, but I have the keys. We can move in right away."

With that, Lu Guifan pulled a keychain from his pocket and looped it around Jiang Ruotang’s finger.

It should have been romantic, but Lu Guifan withdrew his hand too quickly, giving Jiang Ruotang no time to process the gesture.

In the capital, where space came at a premium, buying an apartment close to both the Capital University of Science and Technology and the Academy of Fine Arts meant it was expensive and small. But the interior decor had a refined quality—clearly, the previous owner had style.

The apartment was fully furnished with all necessary appliances. The sun was shining brightly today, so they quickly washed the newly bought bedding set and hung it out to dry—it would be bone-dry by evening.

Jiang Ruotang wandered through each room. When Lu Guifan had chosen this place, he had only seen it through video calls, but experiencing it in person was a world apart.

The study had been turned into a studio for him by Lu Guifan. The desk that originally occupied the center had been moved to a corner, and the area with the best natural light was now reserved for still-life arrangements.

"Isn't this a bit small for your studio?" Lu Guifan's voice came from behind Jiang Ruotang.

"Not at all! I can paint here, you can study at the desk, and I can even sketch you! Besides, the smaller the room, the better—that way I can stay closer to you!"

Lu Guifan chuckled at his words.

"Anything else missing?"

"A soft sofa! You know, for when you're tired from reading, or I'm tired from painting—we can both nap on it!"

"Got it." Lu Guifan nodded.

Jiang Ruotang truly loved this place—it was their secret base, a space that belonged only to the two of them.

Dinner wasn’t extravagant—just a simple tomato and egg noodle dish cooked by Lu Guifan—but Jiang Ruotang ate with relish, slurping up the noodles with such gusto that he was practically face-first in the bowl.

They made up the bed together, and while showering, Jiang Ruotang sang loudly in the bathroom. Wearing Lu Guifan’s pajamas—with the sleeves and pant legs rolled up—he jumped onto the bed, tossing and turned playfully a few times. His fluffy short hair, elegant neckline, and fair ankles (pale from lack of sun) set Lu Guifan’s pulse racing as he watched.

It had been so long since they last embraced each other.

Still rolling around, Jiang Ruotang felt the mattress dip before being abruptly pulled into a tight embrace. Restrained yet forceful kisses landed on his cheeks, jaw, and neck before he could even register Lu Guifan’s expression, leaving him breathless and disoriented.

Jiang Ruotang knew—Lu Guifan had missed him.

They hadn’t seen each other for over ten days. Unlike Jiang Ruotang, who was in military training—which required his undivided attention—Lu Guifan wasn't confined to a lab requiring strict focus. Yet, he still thought of Jiang Ruotang daily: worrying if he’d be sore after training like the first time they played badminton, if the food at the training base suited him, or how he was getting along with his new roommates and classmates.

Once, so lost in thought, Lu Guifan was mistaken by the instructor for being exhausted, earning the whole class an early break.

Only he knew the truth—he wished he could push himself harder, if only to stop missing Jiang Ruotang so much.

Just as Jiang Ruotang was about to suffocate from Lu Guifan’s relentless kisses, he pounded on his back repeatedly before Lu Guifan reluctantly pulled away, taking in his flushed face and labored breathing before running fingers through his hair.

"Don’t be silly—just breathe through your nose."

"Your nose bridge is too high—it’s crushing mine!" Jiang Ruotang complained.

"Let me see."

"See… see what?" Jiang Ruotang asked nervously.

"What else? Those legendary abs you supposedly built during training." Lu Guifan teased, prodding Jiang Ruotang’s midsection through his pajamas. "I’ll verify for Zhao Zhangfeng—see if you were exaggerating!"

"I wasn’t! You’ll be so jealous when you see them!"

Never one to pass up showing off, Jiang Ruotang lifted his shirt without hesitation—only to be ambushed by Lu Guifan, his resistance melting away instantly.

"Liar! You said you just wanted to see my abs!"

"I never said *just* the abs."

Jiang Ruotang seriously wondered if Lu Guifan had been taking lessons during their time apart—he was completely defenseless.

Though Lu Guifan’s advances attempted to dock several times, Jiang Ruotang wasn't quite ready, forcing retreats.

Perhaps out of frustration, the advances lingered too aggressively in the outer waters, stirring waves that nearly overwhelmed them both.

With his face pressed into a pillow, Jiang Ruotang suddenly suspected Lu Guifan had set this up deliberately—why else would he have placed the pillow right by the bed?

The first semester’s coursework was manageably light, mostly art theory, foundational drawing, and specialized techniques.

In his free time, Jiang Ruotang would drag his roommates along to watch Zhao Zhangfeng’s basketball games, go sketching with them, or lose himself in Cai Cai’s latest game designs.

He had assumed Lu Guifan’s freshman year would be all foundational theory with no lab work, but surprisingly, Lu Guifan had caught the attention of faculty and became the sole freshman in his advisor’s research team.

As a result, Jiang Ruotang sometimes went days without seeing him. But whenever they reunited, Lu Guifan would take things to another level, leaving Jiang Ruotang utterly overwhelmed—not that he was complaining. In fact, he found himself looking forward to it.

By the end of the semester, *Drunken Immortal Terrace* had completed filming and post-production, passing regulatory review. Initially, Jiang Huaiyuan hoped for a winter release if all went smoothly.

But unexpectedly, Qilin Video and Yunfeng Video’s offers came in disappointingly low. Major TV networks, stung by poor ratings from recent fantasy dramas, had tightened their quotas. This was the crew’s hard work—Jiang Huaiyuan grew anxious again.

Meanwhile, online smear campaigns against *Drunken Immortal Terrace* surfaced, claiming derivative sets, clichéd plots, and a lead actor without enough star appeal to guarantee ratings. Zhao Yunshu immediately contacted PR firms, but the damage control proved ineffective.

On a lazy Saturday morning, Lu Guifan and Jiang Ruotang lazed in bed, neither wanting to get up. Jiang Ruotang lay on Lu Guifan’s chest, idly scrolling through his phone, frowning at the online vitriol.

Noticing his expression, Lu Guifan asked, "What’s wrong?"

"Because of programming quotas, TV networks aren’t interested in *Drunken Immortal Terrace* right now. Qilin and Yunfeng are trying to lowball us, and there’s a flood of smear campaigns online."

The issues weren’t impossible to overcome, but knowing Jiang Huaiyuan must be upset and Zhao Yunshu was working overtime on damage control made Jiang Ruotang frustrated.

He knew his father’s dedication and skill as a director better than anyone.

Even the rough cuts—which Jiang Ruotang had watched with Lu Guifan, along with Jian Sha and Cai Ji as a "test audience"—had impressed them.

Jian Sha, with her keen sense of narrative pacing, and Cai Ji, with his sharp eye for VFX, both agreed *Drunken Immortal Terrace* had hit potential. They were eager to watch the full series.

TV networks had always been restrictive in acquisitions. With fantasy dramas cluttering the summer schedule—each vying for attention—regulators had even handed down directives urging diversity in programming to avoid oversaturation.

But networks tended to apply policies dogmatically. Meanwhile, younger audiences had defected to streaming platforms, meaning traditional TV viewers might no longer be *Drunken Immortal Terrace*’s target demographic.

Lu Guifan listened quietly as Jiang Ruotang walked him through the situation. Though outside his expertise, he could still discern the underlying dynamics.

"TV isn’t entirely off the table, but scheduling delays could hurt *Drunken Immortal Terrace*’s momentum. By the time it airs, audience anticipation might wane, or new trends could overshadow it. But the streaming platforms’ behavior is suspicious—your father’s reputation alone should command respect. Why the sudden lowballing?"

Jiang Ruotang explained, "It’s because of *Idol, Please Step Forward*."

"Isn’t that a variety show? Different market entirely."

"My guess? *Idol*’s marketing budget is astronomical, eating into Qilin’s resources. But its high traffic brings in subscribers and ad revenue, so Qilin’s focus isn’t on dramas now. Plus, Han Ming—one of *Idol*’s producers—is still gunning for Ling Song."

"And your father opposed the ALEN film investment at *Universe Pictures*’ shareholder meeting, making Qin Zhanchao see the Jiangs as adversaries. He might be pressuring your father too—he’s also *Idol*’s producer and investor."

"Yunfeng’s easy to figure out. *Idol* stole their users, and their last two quarterly reports were dismal. They’re probably itching to collaborate with Han Ming and Qin Zhanchao on a similar show to save face. At the same time, they’re penny-pinching—unless *Drunken Immortal Terrace* can outperform *Idol*, they won’t pay premium."

Lu Guifan met Jiang Ruotang’s gaze. "But Qilin and Yunfeng aren’t the only platforms."

"Right. But many assume Tiny Fruit is just for anime fans—that *Drunken Immortal Terrace* wouldn’t find an audience there."

"So what’s your plan?"

"We pivot, naturally. Our goal has always been to be a comprehensive entertainment platform. This is our chance to pull drama viewers from Qilin and Yunfeng while cultivating our own users’ appetite for series." Jiang Ruotang rested his chin on his hand, deep in thought.

Lu Guifan leaned back against the headboard. This side of Jiang Ruotang reminded him of something Jian Sha once said—a focused man becomes doubly charming.

Jiang Ruotang still called to comfort Jiang Huaiyuan and told Zhao Yunshu that he would come up with a solution on Sweet Fruit’s end.

Then, Jiang Ruotang got up and rummaged through Lu Guifan’s section of the wardrobe.

“What are you looking for?” Lu Guifan asked, amused.

“Where are your button-up shirts and ties? Lend them to me. I have a video conference with Sweet Fruit’s shareholders later—I can’t show up in pajamas or a T-shirt, right?” Jiang Ruotang turned back and grinned at Lu Guifan.

Looking for his boyfriend’s shirt first thing in the morning—pretty suggestive.

“I’ll find them for you. Go wash up.” Lu Guifan lightly tugged at the collar of Jiang Ruotang’s pajamas. The mark on his neck had already faded to a faint hue.

Jiang Ruotang yawned as he entered the bathroom. While brushing his teeth, he noticed something beneath his collar. He pulled it aside to look, then popped his head out and called to Lu Guifan, “I told you not to leave marks in such obvious places! Last time, Ding Bing and the others saw and teased me about it!”

“Can’t kiss you where it’s visible… but if I kiss you where it’s not, you’ll be done in less than a minute.” Lu Guifan’s smile was devilishly handsome.

Jiang Ruotang grumbled inwardly—good thing he wasn’t an emperor, or he’d truly be the kind who “neglects court for his consort” (referencing a famous Chinese poem), all thanks to this hypocritical, troublemaking minister, Lu Guifan…

By the time he finished washing up, Lu Guifan had prepared a simple breakfast—steak and egg sandwiches with vegetables and milk.

Jiang Ruotang happily took a sip of milk, leaving a milk mustache on his upper lip. Lu Guifan nearly laughed again. He stood, planted his hands on the table, and swiftly leaned down. Jiang Ruotang only felt something press against his upper lip before Lu Guifan pulled away. Sighing, he said, “Middle of the day, Lu Guifan… How come you’re always in the mood for kisses?”

Lu Guifan smiled without answering.

After breakfast, Jiang Ruotang changed into the button-up and suit.

Lu Guifan’s cuffs were a bit long, so he had to roll them up. The shoulders of the jacket were also slightly broad, but with the camera framing him, it shouldn’t be noticeable.

Jiang Ruotang sat at the desk in the studio, opening his laptop. Lu Guifan lounged on a lounge chair nearby, ostensibly reading a book—though it was more accurate to say he was watching Jiang Ruotang over the edge of the pages.

His focused, professional demeanor was captivating—articulate in speech, patient in debate, always backing his arguments with facts and data.

Both Qi Yanze and Chen Dan had sensed the limitations of the anime market and recognized the need to expand into TV dramas soon. Otherwise, once this generation of anime fans grew up, the next wave of users was uncertain.

Mu Xianqing also believed that despite being a xianxia drama, *Drunken Immortal Terrace* had Jiang Huaiyuan’s reputation as a renowned director behind it, which would generate audience anticipation. Moreover, Sweet Fruit already hosted many artists’ columns. Though these artists treated the platform as a promotional and fan-engagement space, most of their followers were drama viewers—perfect for testing *Drunken Immortal Terrace*’s audience crossover potential.

Gao Cheng and the data analysis team had crunched the numbers—even if *Drunken Immortal Terrace* flopped, the loss would be within acceptable limits. Gao Cheng had attended an advance screening and, after just the first three episodes, was deeply impressed. Unlike Qilin and Yunfeng, he was highly optimistic about the drama’s ratings.

Having partners who shared his vision made Jiang Ruotang feel incredibly fortunate.

Chen Dan, full of promotional strategies, proposed directly: “If we acquire *Drunken Immortal Terrace*’s broadcasting rights and schedule it for the winter season, we should start advance promotion—using dynamic comics. Merging TV dramas with 2D content satisfies Sweet Fruit’s established user base while guiding them toward *Drunken Immortal Terrace*.”

Qi Yanze added seriously, “We should also promote Ling Song on the platform—he’s got great looks, handsome in a masculine way, with the look of a comic book hero.

If this were some poorly cast, badly acted lead paired with cheap effects and awful cinematography, it’d ruin anime fans’ imaginations. But this drama’s styling and visuals are stunning—it could break the genre barrier. Let’s set up a profile page for Ling Song too. Isn’t Chen Dan’s sister his agent? With her skills, she’ll make his page thrive and drive engagement instantly!”

Hearing this, Jiang Ruotang couldn’t help but laugh, feeling Qi Yanze had grown a lot lately.

Since Chen Dan got busy, Qi Yanze had found his old pastimes—playing pool, drinking, street racing—dull. Now, not only did he accompany him for sponsorship talks, but he also enrolled in an MBA program, applying himself seriously. Some of the executives and industry elites in his class shared insights with him, broadening his perspective.

The internal meeting went smoothly. The only surprise was the call from Ling Song afterward.

“Huh? Why’s he calling me? A misdial?”

Jiang Ruotang cocked his head in confusion, but answered anyway. After a couple of “hellos,” the line stayed silent.

“Must’ve been a misdial. I’ll hang up.”

Just as he was about to end the call, Ling Song’s voice came through.

“Not a misdial, Xiao Jiang… I just didn’t know how to say it.”

Ling Song’s tone remained icy, but where it once carried a sense of being abandoned by the world, Jiang Ruotang now detected guilt.

“What’s wrong?” Jiang Ruotang leaned back in his chair, waiting.

“I wanted to know… is *Drunken Immortal Terrace* being lowballed by Qilin and Yunfeng because of me?”

Jiang Ruotang hesitated, taken aback. How rare—Ling Song actually doubting himself?