Shen Qianzhan lifted her head.

Ji Qinghe clearly saw her complete expression. Apart from a slight confusion in her eyes, she didn’t seem surprised to hear this statement. In fact, after digesting the meaning of his entire sentence, the corners of her lips curved slightly upward, revealing an ambiguous smile that was neither quite a smile nor not.

Whatever her reaction was, it wasn’t quite what he had imagined.

Shen Qianzhan leaned back against the chair, adjusting her formal negotiation posture into a slightly more relaxed and casual stance.

She brushed the long hair behind her shoulders, her peripheral vision sweeping toward the floor-length mirror diagonally across from them that was originally meant to visually deepen the sense of space. After confirming that she still maintained an elegant posture and perfect appearance at this moment, sufficient to crush Ji Qinghe’s little beating heart with her looks, she smiled and confirmed: “CEO Ji’s meaning is, you want to keep me?”

Ji Qinghe didn’t respond, maintaining an ambiguous stance of tacit consent, waiting for her answer.

Shen Qianzhan met his gaze, and after a moment, let out a light sneer.

Ambiguity was a tactic belonging to the weak party lacking confidence in negotiations, typically used when one’s hand held insufficient chips, waiting for the stronger party to draw the battle lines.

She slightly raised her chin and confirmed again: “If I refuse, there would be absolutely no possibility of cooperation between us?”

This time Ji Qinghe’s attitude was much clearer, his face clearly showing “I have no answer to copy here.”

Shen Qianzhan couldn’t read anything from his expression and didn’t try to fish for more information.

Just then, the staff brought over coffee, quietly asking if she needed sugar or milk.

Shen Qianzhan hesitated for several seconds between being a sweet little angel and a bitter little goldthread, glanced at Ji Qinghe across from her who was calmly observing tourists passing by the flower beds, gritted her teeth, and chose bitter goldthread.

In that previous decade of her life, Shen Qianzhan’s path hadn’t been smooth.

When she was unknown, success couldn’t be exchanged simply through honest hard work. She started from planning, wrote outlines, worked on scripts, planned projects.

She had once crossed half the country to negotiate with suitable screenwriters, and had also accompanied drinking and selling smiles for investments.

Ji Qinghe wasn’t the first person who wanted to keep her. Even when she was poor and desperate without seeing any hope, Shen Qianzhan had never wavered. Now that she had achieved success and fame, those who had said such things to her could no longer reach her level.

She looked up, her eyes deep and profound, her tone rather regretful as she said: “It’s quite tempting, but I’m sorry. Rather than being a peony in your backyard, I’d prefer to be a money-printing machine that never stops living and earning.” After speaking, she lifted her coffee and took a light sip, her expression truly matching her tone—three parts pity, seven parts regret.

Ji Qinghe didn’t insist. He nodded slightly and stopped overthinking: “Then let’s talk about cooperation.”

Hmm?

What did she just hear?

Shen Qianzhan had been prepared for him to say “Then I’m sorry, I only cooperate with my little peonies,” after which she would use the kind of contemptuous and disgusted look she reserved for scumbags to call over the staff to pay the bill. Then, she would elegantly rise, nod with a smile, not even needing to say goodbye, just lift her feet and walk away without looking back.

But she had already rehearsed the scene, and what did he say?

Let’s talk about cooperation?

Was he toying with her?

Perhaps her stunned expression was too direct, as Ji Qinghe smiled faintly, the corners of his lips curving upward, revealing a shallow dimple: “Not going to talk?”

Shen Qianzhan immediately smiled. She saw herself in the diagonal floor mirror instantly transform into a lackey, pouring tea and passing napkins, afraid of neglecting the financial backer daddy: “Talk, let’s talk talk talk.”

Ji Qinghe lowered his head to drink water. Shen Qianzhan, afraid daddy might get burned, quietly reminded: “Drink slowly, it’s hot.”

Ji Qinghe frowned. Shen Qianzhan, afraid daddy found it bitter, inquired in a low voice: “Not to your taste? Shall I get you a different pot?”

Ji Qinghe looked up at her. Shen Qianzhan, afraid daddy might be bothered, tidied up her appearance, almost taking out a powder compact to touch up her makeup and set it, maintaining her beautiful and refined exterior to provide a good negotiation experience for the financial backer daddy.

“Su Zan is your assistant?” Ji Qinghe cleared his throat slightly, saying meaningfully: “Your teaching has a very distinctive personal style.”

Shen Qianzhan suppressed the urge to roll her eyes, muttering: “Just livening up the atmosphere.” After thinking, she couldn’t help defending herself: “Su Zan mostly learned on his own, and he learns the bad but not the good. Not only did he fail to inherit any of my noble character, he specifically picked up all the crooked and evil tendencies.”

She raised her wrist to check the time, obviously not wanting to waste more time on irrelevant matters. Her eyes brightened slightly as she stared at him intently: “Does CEO Ji want to discuss the special consultant cooperation first, or the investment first?”

Ji Qinghe met her gaze for two seconds and reminded: “What about the remedial measures?”

Shen Qianzhan showed no guilt about forgetting, instead asking back: “What about CEO Ji’s conditions?”

He wasn’t someone who dragged things out, and neither was Shen Qianzhan.

The two of them had been grinding away at reaching this cooperation agreement so long they could have ground out a bag of soy milk. Initially it could be considered flirtation, but prolonged, it would only breed disgust.

Both understood the principle of quitting while ahead.

Ji Qinghe didn’t keep her in suspense. His fingertip lightly touched the tea cup handle as he said: “First, regarding the reputational damage caused to me and Bu Zhong Sui by the artist under your company, shouldn’t you give me an explanation?”

Shen Qianzhan raised her eyebrows, silently grumbling: Then aren’t you afraid of damaging your image by constantly talking about watering little peonies? Scumbags can be so scummy they won’t even let double standards slide.

Grumbling aside, Shen Qianzhan showed an expression of humble acceptance and even immense shame on her face, responding in a dejected tone: “Absolutely, I’m already investigating and will definitely find out the truth to give CEO Ji an explanation. In the future, I won’t allow such things to happen again. What about the second?”

Ji Qinghe found it rare to see her obediently taking notes again. His gaze softened slightly, and before he knew it, his eyebrows and eyes had already quietly taken on a few traces of amusement: “Second, regarding matters related to me, Producer Shen must not delegate to others but must handle everything personally.”

Producer Shen had signed countless difficult artists, so she didn’t find Ji Qinghe’s request particularly special. She pondered for several seconds and seriously discussed the details with him: “Including travel arrangements, dining, and accommodation?”

The special consultant would participate in script meetings in the early stages, providing professional guidance and suggestions. Later, when the crew was established and the art department constructed character roles, they would also need to reference his opinions. Even the set design and action direction during filming would require Ji Qinghe’s personal guidance.

Thinking this through, Shen Qianzhan became even more urgent. She asked: “Why don’t you give me your assistant’s contact information? I’ll finalize the contract details with him as soon as possible.”

She elaborated: “Only contracts can effectively bind both parties and protect mutual interests. I need to determine how many days I can sign you for. Your schedule determines the efficiency of my preliminary preparation work.” Seeing that Ji Qinghe seemed not to understand, Shen Qianzhan decided to be more direct: “You’re too expensive, and the budget is currently limited. I need to squeeze every penny’s worth out of the money spent on signing you.”

Ji Qinghe remained silent.

His expression looked somewhat indescribable.

Shen Qianzhan was pleased that she had successfully intimidated Ji Qinghe, saying slowly: “Of course, if CEO Ji doesn’t want to be used with such high frequency and high pressure, you could allocate more funding.” After speaking, she curved her lips in a smile that was both cunning and charming.

You think I’m telling dirty jokes? No, I’m just asking for funding.

——

After reaching preliminary cooperation intentions, Shen Qianzhan rushed back to the company without stopping, having Qiao Xin contact the other party’s assistant to finalize the contract as soon as possible, preventing Ji Qinghe from having second thoughts.

Procedures had to be followed, and promises had to be kept.

Shen Qianzhan had extensive connections and resources, maintaining good cooperative relationships with countless marketing accounts under her command. She quickly found out who the anonymous netizen was who had leaked the story about Xiang Qianqian’s “nighttime meeting with a financial backer.” But to learn the anonymous netizen’s true identity would require filing lawsuits step by step.

Shen Qianzhan couldn’t wait. She temporarily abandoned this approach and put pressure on Su Zan.

Since handing Xiang Qianqian over to Su Zan, she had never directly interfered with Xiang Qianqian’s management affairs. Only when Su Zan was unable to handle things would she appropriately intervene, reserving considerable initiative for herself.

Su Zan had been frantically busy investigating this matter for the past two days.

When Xiang Qianqian’s scandal broke, although Qiandeng immediately removed the trending topics and suppressed the news, they couldn’t prevent their rivals from stirring things up. A wave of dirt followed like flies drawn to light, exploding online all at once, afraid of not trampling her to death.

Fortunately, the photos in the original netizen’s leak were extremely blurry, and Ji Qinghe usually kept a low profile, so it didn’t cause a major uproar. The subsequent financial backer dirt was mostly media speculation and had nothing to do with Ji Qinghe.

The leads were about to break off, yet making any breakthrough was extremely difficult.

So much so that whenever Su Zan saw Shen Qianzhan calling over the past two days, he had to grab and ruffle his hair first.

He sprawled listlessly half-collapsed on the sofa in Shen Qianzhan’s office, pitiful, weak, and helpless: “I really can’t figure it out. This time there were press releases across the entire network. I can’t tell whose hands are dirtier.”

Shen Qianzhan was reviewing the third version of the contract returned by Ji Qinghe’s assistant.

Given Ji Qinghe’s special status, Shen Qianzhan had personally made adjustments when Qiao Xin produced the first version of the contract. Unexpectedly, Ji Qinghe’s assistant was as difficult to deal with as he was, with demands for Party B’s obligations that were stringent to an outrageous degree.

Shen Qianzhan frowned, making annotations and revision comments while perfunctorily responding to Su Zan: “Didn’t you tell me before that Qianqian privately found herself a backing? Didn’t you pursue that lead?”

Su Zan glanced at her resentfully and complained: “She won’t say. When I pressed too hard, she brought out the contract, saying she had no obligation to disclose private matters.”

Shen Qianzhan’s typing hands paused. She glanced at him incredulously: “You just let her brush you off like that?”

Su Zan sighed deeply and spoke frankly: “I’m indeed only suited to be a useless rich second generation who only knows how to spend money.”

Shen Qianzhan finished adjusting the final version, scrolling up and down to review it, then sneakily added a clause to Party A’s obligations—During cooperation, Party A may not use any interest-related matters as leverage, violating the original intention of both parties’ cooperation, forcing Party B to violate professional ethics and rules by involving private emotions.

Then she saved and sent it.

After finishing these tasks, Shen Qianzhan finally had time to relax. She sipped the Gesha coffee that Su Zan had been offering as tribute daily, and with a rare pang of conscience, comforted him: “You’re not completely useless. The skill of being born into the right family is something ordinary people really can’t learn.”

Su Zan was on the verge of tears, continuing to play dead: “Director Lei’s audition results were originally quite good. After so much effort and hard work, in the end, once the dirt exploded, all we got was ‘we’ll collaborate when there’s an opportunity.'”

Shen Qianzhan said disdainfully: “Didn’t I teach you to maintain appropriate distance with artists, and that giving them some private space is premised on them trusting you enough and being obedient enough?”

Qiandeng never believed in controlling artists completely, always maintaining freedom, democracy, and peaceful profit-making.

But Xiang Qianqian, after leaving her care, was like an unrestrained wild horse that couldn’t be reined in.

Had Qiandeng wronged her? No.

Had Su Zan wronged her? Also no.

Su Zan only managed Xiang Qianqian as his sole artist, and being an agent was the rich young master’s first proper job. He treated Xiang Qianqian like a precious jewel, spending half his monthly salary on pulling resources for her.

Combined with Su Zan’s status as Qiandeng’s crown prince, Qiandeng’s resource allocation was completely tilted in her favor. Who knew what she was still dissatisfied with, constantly causing trouble.

Shen Qianzhan’s gaze fell on Su Zan’s face, which had hit walls until he was lifeless, and she helplessly gave him a reminder: “Why don’t you investigate Xiang Qianqian’s recent collaboration directions? If she found backing, she couldn’t possibly just keep giving. There must be demands and gifts involved—no one runs a charity.”

Su Zan’s eyes lit up, like seeing light through parting seaweed. He suddenly bounced up and hurried out of her office in a flurry.

At the same time.

Shen Qianzhan’s WeChat chimed softly.

She unlocked her phone to check.

Ji Qinghe’s WeChat account, which had been dormant since entering her friends list, had come back to life.

He asked: “‘During cooperation, Party A may not use any interest-related matters as leverage, violating the original intention of both parties’ cooperation, forcing Party B to violate professional ethics and rules by involving private emotions’—what specific aspects does ‘private emotions’ refer to?”