Madam Yu and Du Chengrong’s conversation remained unknown to Xia Ziyu.

CR Investment’s first venture resulted in a 2.5 million yuan loss, but Xia Ziyu wasn’t particularly concerned. Du Chengrong treated her the same way he treated his two sons, giving her a year to prove herself. With her grand ambitions, she didn’t dwell on the 2.5 million loss.

However, Madam Yu, who acquired Elegance for just 7.9 million yuan—not 8 million, as she received a 100,000 yuan refund from the 2.5 million Du Chengrong returned—didn’t think any better of Xia Ziyu. The price was close to Elegance’s true value, with Xia Ziyu bearing most of the premium.

Though Xia Ziyu wanted to maintain good relations with Madam Yu, the latter feared involvement in Du’s family affairs and used taking over Elegance’s mainland business as an excuse to leave Hong Kong.

Previously, Madam Yu could at least communicate with Du Chengrong, but now his thoughts were impenetrable.

Like ancient emperors who grew suspicious in their later years, Du Chengrong seemed to be following a similar pattern.

After taking over Elegance’s mainland operations, Madam Yu decided to keep the brand name after much consideration. The previous owner, Ji Ya, had invested considerable effort in building the brand, and Madam Yu wanted to capitalize on that.

However, the brand positioning was problematic.

It was disconnected from reality.

How could a business succeed without being grounded?

Even Hong Kong tycoons would humble themselves when doing business!

Look at utilities like water and electricity—though the profit per unit is minimal, they don’t simply give it away to citizens! Small profits add up to significant amounts when accumulated.

Those who look down on small businesses can’t succeed in big business.

While Madam Yu began addressing Elegance’s issues, Xia Xiaolan remained focused on design work in Shangdu, maintaining a peaceful atmosphere that gave Madam Yu no opportunity to conflict with Chen Xiliang.

Chen Xiliang had lost interest in who bought Elegance.

He was busy discussing television drama production with Director Wang.

Director Wang Lin Shu had spent years filming “Dream of the Red Chamber,” from nationwide casting and training actors to location shooting and editing. Though he might still be unsatisfied with the final cut, it represented his best effort.

The audience reception and ratings would become clear next month when “Dream of the Red Chamber” premiered.

Before then, Wang Lin Shu only wanted to rest and spend time with family—a wish Chen Xiliang ruthlessly shattered. The power of capital made it impossible for Director Wang to refuse. His work connections at Central TV, combined with Luna’s reliable advertising partnership and Chen Xiliang’s networking skills, made the project inevitable.

Luna wanted to self-fund a television drama and had set their sights on Wang Lin Shu. Central TV had no objections—he was available, so why not?

Television drama production required approval, and Chen Xiliang worked his connections. As a clothing brand owner, he had nearly mastered the entertainment industry.

Zhang Xiao, hearing that Xia Xiaolan initiated the drama project, declined a film offer from the studio out of trust in Xia Xiaolan’s abilities, wanting to work on Luna’s television drama instead.

Chen Xiliang teased her, “You’re quite confident in your man, even before the script is ready.”

Zhang Xiao held back from disappointing him, hesitating to speak.

Chen Xiliang quickly understood her meaning.

“Say no more, I get it—”

It wasn’t confidence in him but in Xia Xiaolan—everything she touched turned to gold!

Zhang Xiao, being clever, changed the subject: “With the director and script in place, have you considered costumes and makeup? Since the drama will showcase Luna’s clothing, why not bring in Xiao Ge?”

Zhang Xiao had collaborated with Xiao Ge many times for advertisements.

Each time, Xiao Ge’s makeup made her very satisfied.

She felt most beautiful under Xiao Ge’s expertise—this was her personal bias.

But objectively, Xiao Ge’s skills were exceptional. Zhang Xiao believed she was born to be an actress, just as Xiao Ge was born to do makeup. Xia Xiaolan’s high regard for Xiao Ge further strengthened Zhang Xiao’s trust.

They needed someone, and working with familiar people would be easier.

Thus, Xia Xiaolan’s suggestion for Luna to produce a drama quickly went into preparation.

Meanwhile, in Qiong Island, Liu Yong quietly acquired the first plot of land after negotiating with the Yecheng government.

46 mu for 2.07 million yuan, at 45,000 yuan per mu.

Liu Yong signed the contract with Ge Jian, marveling: “It’s so cheap.”

Though Xiaolan said these plots would eventually be sold, Liu Yong felt reluctant.

Not just because Qiong Island was a poor backwater in 1987, but its climate was excellent!

Liu Yong arrived in April and was already wearing short sleeves.

Reportedly, it never got cold year-round.

As someone from southern Henan, where winters were bitter cold requiring heavy coats, Liu Yong wondered—with land prices so low, could he secure a seaside plot, perhaps ten mu or so? He could split it with Xiaolan’s family, build houses, and everyone could come to Qiong Island in winter.

The thought delighted him.

Xia Xiaolan couldn’t have known her uncle’s time thinking about oceanfront property.

Qiong Island would indeed become a popular retirement destination for northerners, leading to online jokes about it being “Northeast China’s Fourth Province.”

Ge Jian also found Qiong Island’s land prices surprisingly low.

So low that he doubted whether commercial housing development would sell.

No, it would sell—this was Director Xia’s decision.

Though he couldn’t see the business opportunity, Director Xia could, highlighting their difference… If Qiong Island had nothing special, why would people like Meng Guanchao come to buy land?

Everyone seemed to agree on quietly making fortunes, with the few who had “insider information” secretly buying land in Qiong Island without drawing attention.

…

“CR Investment—”

In Shangdu, Du Zhaoqi threw the newspaper on the table, finding the situation laughable.

Xia Ziyu had received more privileges than any other concubine in such a short time.

If Xia Ziyu could become CR Investment’s executive director, what did that make his mother, who ranked second and had served Du Chengrong faithfully for over twenty years?

Xia Ziyu’s miscarriage was Liu Keying’s doing.

But Xia Ziyu’s presence repeatedly struck Liu Keying’s sensitivities—how could she not act?

A woman who had followed Du Chengrong for over a decade, discarded so easily.

Now they wanted him to return and take over the family’s smuggling business—weren’t they just setting him up to fight with Liu Tianquan?

Du Zhaoqi seriously doubted whether his father, whom he had always respected, truly considered him a son!