Tainyi Entertainment.

  Coffee had spilled all over the floor, the cup shattered into pieces. Chen Xiaoman was practically fuming.

  Her pn had backfired spectacurly. Not only had she failed to tarnish Lin Wanqing’s reputation, but she’d inadvertently helped promote her new song.

  Li Yingjun stood expressionless, raising a hand to call for a cleaner to tidy up the mess.

  At that moment, he appeared calm and composed, a far cry from the groveling simp he’d been in front of Zhang Jin.

  Paired with his handsome face, he even exuded a certain charm.

  “This is pretty normal. A few photos were never going to bring down Lin Wanqing,” he said.

  “I don’t need you to lecture me. Keep digging for dirt,” Chen Xiaoman snapped, waving him out.

  When Li Yingjun had first approached her, ciming he had compromising material on Lin Wanqing and offering it in exchange for a spot at Tianyi Entertainment, Chen Xiaoman hadn’t hesitated to agree. With her status, slipping a small-time artist into the company was a trivial matter.

  Besides, she’d been impressed by his initiative. The fact that he’d managed to reach her directly showed he’d done his homework.

  For the past two years, she’d been locked in a rivalry with Lin Wanqing for the title of top diva. Lin Wanqing was her biggest threat. Chen Xiaoman had thought she had the upper hand, but then Lin Wanqing suddenly nded a new song, sparking a sense of crisis.

  This move was just a test run—success would be great, but failure wouldn’t matter much.

  The 12th would settle it.

  A rookie composer thinking he could outshine her with one song?

  Delusional.

  He’d just ridden the wave of graduation season hype. No matter how big the online buzz, a song’s success came down to sales.

  Chen Xiaoman was confident in her new track’s quality. After all, it was a masterpiece crafted by one of the company’s top composers.

  No way she’d lose to some wet-behind-the-ears kid.

  ---

  Back at the dorm, Yang Haonan, who’d been out partying all night, listened to the rundown.

  “So it was that punk Li Yingjun pulling the strings?”

  “Probably. But he’s just a pawn,” Xu Nuo replied.

  Yang Haonan nodded. “What’s the pn for the company?”

  “No need to renovate the office—it’s got desks and chairs already. Just hire a few people: two for finance, one for HR,” Xu Nuo id out the strategy.

  Yang Haonan jotted it down as he listened. He wasn’t clueless—he’d just never bothered to care.

  In his own words, why bust your ass when you could live comfortably?

  If Xu Nuo hadn’t been serious about this, he wouldn’t have gotten involved.

  But bros help bros.

  “Make sure HR’s good-looking. Early on, the company’s image depends on them. Have them double as admin,” Xu Nuo continued.

  “For finance, get someone competent—an cashier and an accountant.”

  Xu Nuo expined it clearly, and Yang Haonan grew more surprised the more he heard.

  “You really know your stuff, huh?”

  “Duh. Starting a company’s not a game.”

  Xu Nuo swatted away Yang Haonan’s grubby hand. “We’ll buy office supplies in the next couple days and rent a pce.”

  “I’m cool with whatever. The office is a bit far from your company, so let’s rent something near yours.”

  Xu Nuo checked a map. “How about somewhere in between? Equal distance, twenty-minute commute either way.”

  “You’ve got a car too?”

  “…Damn it.” Xu Nuo flipped him off. Having a car wasn’t that impressive.

  Renting in Modu wasn’t cheap. They ended up with a rundown two-bedroom apartment near Haiyin Entertainment for 5,000 yuan a month.

  They’d split the rent fifty-fifty.

  After signing the lease, they returned to the dorm to pack. Despite its size, the dorm held a surprising amount of stuff.

  Two big bags for bedding, two suitcases, and a bunch of miscelneous junk.

  “We’re really leaving. Kinda miss this pce,” Yang Haonan said, standing at the dorm door, looking at the empty room with a sigh.

  “Let’s go. It’s not like we can’t come back,” Xu Nuo replied.

  Yang Haonan’s car turned into a cargo hauler, stuffed to the brim as it carried them away from school.

  He’d initially pnned to toss all the random stuff, but Xu Nuo stopped him with one line:

  “Your money’s tied up in the company now. You’ve got to save where you can.”

  “No big deal. I’ll just ask my mom for cash,” Yang Haonan said nonchantly.

  “You pnning to keep mooching off them forever?”

  Yang Haonan went quiet for a long moment before getting up to pack.

  Even a spoiled rich kid had a desire to prove himself.

  It just took someone to wake him up.

  They spent the whole day cleaning the apartment, colpsing on the sofa afterward, too exhausted to lift a finger.

  “What’re we eating?”

  “Cook something?”

  “You know how?”

  “Nope.”

  Xu Nuo scratched his head. “Let’s eat out.”

  “What about saving money?”

  “You still have to eat, damn it!”

  After dinner, Yang Haonan couldn’t take his eyes off a bathhouse. “How about a foot massage?”

  “Nah,” Xu Nuo said, uninterested. “Let’s head back and rest. Tomorrow we hire someone, then go buy supplies to get the company up and running.”

  “Fine,” Yang Haonan muttered, smacking his lips reluctantly.

  On July 11th, Heritage Culture Co., Ltd. was officially registered.

  Yang Haonan posted the job listings.

  Quite a few people applied—near a subway station with a good environment, it was a convenient spot for commuting.

  But the candidates were either underqualified or took one look at the empty office and bailed.

  After a whole morning of talking themselves hoarse, Xu Nuo and Yang Haonan upped the sary and finally found a decent hire.

  With Xu Nuo’s tight schedule, he had the girl start immediately, treated her to lunch, and took her shopping for office supplies that afternoon.

  Li Zhuxuan, 24, had graduated two years ago and built up some experience. She’d been performing well at her old job, expecting a promotion and raise—her boss had even promised her a shot this time.

  But when the results came in, a newbie she’d personally trained got the raise instead.

  After a year of hard work—wrinkles forming, health declining, multiple hospital visits—Li Zhuxuan wasn’t having it.

  When she confronted her manager, he brushed her off with a single, flippant sentence that shattered her pride and confidence:

  “She’s the General Manager’s niece.”

  With nowhere to vent her grievances, Li Zhuxuan took a day off. The more she thought about it, the angrier she got; the more she backed off, the more she felt cheated. The next day, she quit.

  She’d hoped to find a better job to shove it in their faces, but after resigning, she realized how brutal the job market was. Half a month ter, she still hadn’t found anything decent.

  Just as she was about to give up, she saw Heritage Culture hiring. It was close to her pce, so she figured she’d give it a shot.

  The interview went smoothly, but she was uneasy—it was a brand-new company.

  She almost walked away, but the pay was good, and the boss seemed earnest, so she decided to test the waters.

  She could always jump ship ter.

  Years down the line, Li Zhuxuan would be endlessly grateful for that choice.

  Thank goodness she’d taken the gamble and stayed—otherwise, she’d never have nded such an opportunity.

  (End of chapter)