December, Beijing.
The winter cold was biting, the sky high and mist-laden.
When Shen Qianzhan’s flight touched down, it was already evening.
The sky hadn’t completely darkened yet, still holding onto that faint, lingering twilight glow that seemed reluctant to fade. The deep dusk-colored city was already ablaze with its first evening lights, like wearing a robe of twilight gold thread, flowing with radiant colors.
The night scenery of bustling cities always carried that intoxicating sense of illusion and the yearning of moths drawn to flame – Beijing was like this, Shanghai was like this, and Nanchen was like this too. But at this moment, Shen Qianzhan had absolutely no heart to appreciate this territory of power that had once filled her with longing. She practically stepped off the plane with footsteps that crushed through this thin, ethereal mist.
This business trip had taken her on a whirlwind tour through several major cities in Europe and Australia, scouting suitable filming locations for the production crew and calculating the budget costs needed for filming.
It sounded rather complex, but this work content translated to – taking public funds to wine, dine, and enjoy life, while conveniently preparing a budget for company-sponsored travel.
Quite wonderful.
But that was on the premise that there hadn’t been a public relations crisis involving Xiang Qianqian throwing a diva tantrum on set and being publicly “executed” for it.
Shen Qianzhan worked for Qiandeng Pictures. The company hadn’t been established for very long, and though it had gained some presence in the industry over the past few years, it still couldn’t compare to the well-known, established film and television companies.
Xiang Qianqian was Qiandeng Pictures’ milestone transition from investment and production into star-making and talent management. Her significance wasn’t just as the company’s top actress, but as the living billboard of Qiandeng Pictures’ successful star-making operation.
Her value was comparable to Qiandeng Pictures’ money tree.
By all rights, as a producer, Shen Qianzhan should have had nothing to do with the company’s signed artists – they had agents to handle them. Even if something went wrong, it wasn’t her responsibility. She could remain carefree and at ease, only needing to worry about securing investments, assembling production crews, selecting directors and actors, and how to solve budget overruns.
But Xiang Qianqian was different.
When Qiandeng Pictures first established its artist management operations project, it was Shen Qianzhan who single-handedly discovered and cultivated Xiang Qianqian, even participating throughout the entire planning of that year’s management operations project.
She personally got involved in marketing, negotiating projects, fighting for endorsements. Before Xiang Qianqian was handed over to her current agent, it was Shen Qianzhan who spared no effort and held nothing back in making her famous.
When the child you raised yourself makes a mistake, don’t you have to personally discipline them?
Shen Qianzhan’s business itineraries always included company-provided transportation.
Almost the moment she reached the airport exit, a black seven-seater business car stopped in front of her with perfect timing.
A young man got out of the passenger seat – in his early twenties, tall and lean with fair skin, narrow eyes, a high and straight nose bridge, and well-defined facial features. Whether looking at his face or his figure, he was completely on par with third-tier traffic idols in the industry.
Su Zan must have dressed up specially before coming out. His skin was milk-white and translucent, his slicked-back hair combed to perfection without a single strand out of place, each strand as rigid as steel spikes that even wind couldn’t budge.
After Shen Qianzhan glanced at him once, she couldn’t help but glance again: “How much hair gel did you plaster on your head?”
The smile on Su Zan’s face froze. He turned to look at his reflection in the car window: “Is it that exaggerated?”
When he turned around, the bouquet of sunflowers he’d been hiding behind his back was completely exposed before Shen Qianzhan’s eyes. She raised an eyebrow with a cold laugh: “Here to apologize on behalf of Xiang Qianqian?”
Su Zan was Xiang Qianqian’s agent. Before this role, he had been Qiandeng Pictures’ crown prince. Because he spent all day playing around and not taking care of business, Su Lanyi had thrown him to Shen Qianzhan for “guidance.”
Shen Qianzhan had no interest in anything other than making money, let alone guiding a stubborn little brat who refused to lose, wouldn’t listen to advice, and thought everyone in the world except himself was beneath him.
After Su Zan came to her, he served as her personal assistant and drinking companion, spending a full two years having his temperament ground down. Whether that dog-like personality had truly been worn smooth by her or if the little wolf had finally learned to temporarily retract his claws, Shen Qianzhan watched his professional abilities mature before dusting off her hands and completely washing her hands of responsibility by throwing Xiang Qianqian to him to manage.
The result was that in less than six months, while she was momentarily inattentive, the money tree she’d painstakingly cultivated for years had been eaten away by termites.
Su Zan was already feeling guilty, and when she spoke so plainly, it became awkward whether to give her the flowers or not.
Shen Qianzhan acted as if she was completely unaware of his current predicament, slightly lifting her chin to indicate: “It’s cold, let’s talk in the car.”
The car’s heating was turned up full blast.
To appease her anger, Su Zan had prepared quite thoroughly. Besides offering flowers, he had also prepared afternoon tea snacks in the car and a thermos filled with red date and bird’s nest soup.
His level of filial devotion was just short of bringing along a foot basin to personally wash her feet.
Unfortunately, Shen Qianzhan wasn’t buying it.
After Xiang Qianqian’s incident, though Su Zan had reacted quickly and immediately produced a crisis management plan to discuss with her, it had ultimately caused significant damage with enormous negative impact. If it weren’t for the efficient and proactive crisis management this time, and that Xiang Qianqian’s reputation wasn’t completely ruined, the current situation wouldn’t just be a matter of lying low for a few months waiting for the right moment to make a comeback.
Shen Qianzhan wasn’t in the country, making many things beyond her reach. After several days of being unable to scratch the itch through her boot, she had already accumulated a belly full of anger: “Has she grown wings? Does she think she can fly now?”
Su Zan had been her personal assistant for two years and had long figured out her temperament. Once Shen Qianzhan spoke with barbs, you absolutely couldn’t continue following her train of thought. Otherwise, no matter how thick-headed you were, this woman could still rub your skull bald.
He smiled with very kind concern: “Sister Zhan, this business trip must have been quite tiring. I see you didn’t buy much – went out with one suitcase, came back with only two more.”
Shen Qianzhan glanced at him without speaking.
Su Zan continued: “Chanel’s latest quilted bag – I heard even Europe was sold out. Did you manage to buy one, Sister Zhan?”
“And that Gucci limited edition little bee collaboration…”
Shen Qianzhan was most unable to resist people talking to her about buying bags. Her expression turned unfriendly as she stiffly squeezed out three words: “Got them.”
Su Zan smiled, about to flatter her with some rainbow-colored praise, when Shen Qianzhan’s face hardened. She grabbed his chin and lifted it, warning him word by word: “Don’t spend all day thinking about playing through life, getting by however you can. How long has Xiang Qianqian been famous? And you’re already indulging her diva behavior and attitude. Reputation is something that once it falls, can’t be propped back up. Have you ever seen anyone’s chastity memorial arch get rebuilt after it’s been torn down?”
With that, she released him and leaned back into her chair, sighing deeply: “Xiang Qianqian’s path to fame can’t be replicated twice. If you really can’t handle her, find someone else early.”
Shen Qianzhan always meant what she said. Su Zan knew this statement was serious, his expression became solemn, no longer daring to be casual: “I understand. I’ll be more careful in the future.”
“Just you being careful isn’t enough.” Shen Qianzhan closed her eyes slightly, her tone scattered and languid: “You need to make Xiang Qianqian understand exactly what she’s worth. Don’t let a few fans’ flattery make her float out of the galaxy. This industry doesn’t lack people who work steadily. Opportunities that people desperate to be famous would beg for – if she keeps making trouble, forget about others not giving her chances, Qiandeng will directly abandon her.”
These words were too harsh. Even Su Zan didn’t know how to respond for a moment.
As he fell silent, the atmosphere in the car instantly turned cold, leaving only the mechanical female voice of the GPS constantly reminding them of traffic congestion ahead on the elevated road.
Shen Qianzhan’s original itinerary was to first meet with Su Zan, then attend a dinner engagement. Having talked enough now, she suddenly felt somewhat dispirited, not understanding what mindset had driven her to rush back to the country so urgently.
She didn’t want to see Xiang Qianqian anymore – what was the point of listening to apologies? She wasn’t the type who needed others to grovel to elevate her own social status and demonstrate personal value. With this time, she might as well go meet some fresh young meat and feast her eyes.
Thinking this way, her heart stirred slightly. She opened her eyes and asked Su Zan: “What time is tonight’s dinner scheduled for?”
Shen Qianzhan was currently preparing a tribute drama set to begin filming next year – a project that dozens of film and television companies had fought tooth and nail for but failed to secure.
Tonight’s dinner she was attending was organized by the production company. Besides discussing the project’s preparation progress, more importantly, they needed to introduce Shen Qianzhan to the newly joined investors.
With the project’s progress and prospects at stake, Shen Qianzhan naturally couldn’t decline.
“Seven o’clock.” Su Zan lifted his wrist to check the time: “If we go now, even with traffic jams we’ll arrive on time.”
Shen Qianzhan lazily hummed in response, then asked: “What do you think – should we bring along Little One, Little Two, Little Three…”
Su Zan immediately knew what mischievous ideas she was harboring. While inwardly complaining that thirty-year-old women were like wolves and tigers, he mercilessly shattered her fantasy: “I think it’s very inappropriate, and I advise you not to get any flowery ideas. Tonight’s dinner includes production companies, investors, and platform representatives – all respectable people unlike you. I made sure to inquire beforehand – this funding representative particularly detests smoky, inappropriate dinner environments. So tonight, apart from necessary team members, forget about irrelevant people – they wouldn’t even let a fly in.”
Hearing this, Shen Qianzhan felt deeply regretful: “Such a pity. This funding representative probably doesn’t understand what ‘feast for the eyes’ means.”
Su Zan: “…” At this moment, he really wanted to like those social media posts saying Shen Qianzhan secured this tribute drama through pimping. Too realistic.
Shen Qianzhan was still immersed in disappointment that tonight’s dinner wouldn’t include Little One, Little Two, and Little Three dining together. She completely failed to notice Su Zan’s dangerous internal thoughts and continued probing: “What about bringing Zhou Yan? He’s an artist under our Qiandeng banner, barely counts as a team member?”
Su Zan fell into an oddly awkward silence for several seconds.
He really wanted to advise Shen Qianzhan not to appear so desperately lustful at certain times. The words reached his lips but he feared being cut down, so after brewing for a while, he said: “Sister Zhan, you’re someone with zero romantic experience – why do you always like to play up this worldly persona of having seen countless lovers?”
Shen Qianzhan protested: “Who says I have no romantic experience? In Xi’an, I…”
Su Zan silently rolled his eyes internally. Right, that Xi’an romantic encounter story where she slept with someone and left – she’d been bragging about it for months without updates. He was sick of hearing it, yet somehow Shen Qianzhan managed to bring it up each time as if it were her first love.
He cleared his throat, imperceptibly interrupting her: “Sister Zhan.”
“You might not realize,” Su Zan licked his upper lip, his survival instincts temporarily abandoning him, “every time you mention this incident and this man, you sound exactly like a scumbag woman who tricks people into bed.”
“…The kind that gets immediate karmic retribution.”