At this moment, Cheng Lele emerged from the corridor with her head down, shaking her dripping wet hands. She was considering replacing the tiles in the men’s restroom, though she probably couldn’t find tiles with the same pattern. If she randomly chose similar ones, it would look out of place instead. Tearing everything down and redoing it would cost a considerable sum. Of course, this wasn’t the most pressing matter. The most important thing right now was to expand the market.

Lost in thought, she walked to the lobby and only noticed Chen An had returned when she was near the counter.

She had an unpleasant smell of sweat on her, and afraid of making the young man uncomfortable, she didn’t dare approach, standing about a meter away from Chen An. Given that an employee was present, she greeted him with proper discretion: “Good evening, Boss Chen.”

Chen An looked over with one glance.

Cheng Lele had been so focused on work these past two days that she hadn’t paid much attention to her appearance. Having just spent so long in the men’s restroom, she looked quite disheveled—her hair was loose, her face was dirty, her clothes were covered with spots and stains. She looked like a little calico cat that had fallen into a drainpipe, with only her eyes still clean and clear.

Seeing her in this wretched state, Chen An’s temple throbbed, and with a dark expression he said, “Come with me.”

Cheng Lele followed him to the office. Right by the entrance hung a full-length mirror. Chen An pushed her in front of the mirror and said, “I hired you at a high salary to be a manager, not to be a blue-collar worker.”

Cheng Lele was particularly sensitive to money matters now. Hearing this, her focus completely shifted. She only knew that Xingchen had paid Tongda a consulting fee, but she wasn’t clear on the specific amount.

She asked in shock, “High salary? How much?”

“You were transferred here from Beijing—wasn’t it at a high salary?”

Cheng Lele was too embarrassed to say she had actually taken a disguised pay cut, and almost blurted out her inner thoughts, asking Chen An to just take back the consulting fee and pay her salary directly instead.

Speaking of money reminded Cheng Lele of those six million that pained her heart beyond measure. As if unwilling to accept this fact, she urgently sought confirmation from Chen An again: “Little brother, you spent six million to buy this cinema?”

Chen An took a tissue box from the office desk and said, “Manager Cheng, that’s not within your scope of work.”

“I need to calculate the return on investment, so I need to know the cost.”

“You don’t need to bear the cost burden. Tongda Cinemas only takes a percentage of the box office revenue. You just need to do your job.”

Cheng Lele’s teeth lightly touched her lips, and she didn’t press further.

Back then when Chen An gave up Tsinghua and Peking University, he never told her the real reason from start to finish. If he didn’t want to say something, asking further would be futile.

Cheng Lele thought for a moment and asked from a different angle: “Where did this money come from?”

Chen An didn’t quite understand why Cheng Lele insisted on asking these questions.

Actually, this cinema’s situation was very special. The cinema’s predecessor was a state-owned theater, and the two-story building it occupied was a state-owned asset. Later it was transferred to private ownership. At the time, cinemas were still an emerging industry, and the government didn’t really understand the ins and outs of it, so both parties directly signed a thirty-year lease contract.

Now Taixi was also vigorously engaged in real estate development. The eastern part of the city had been mostly developed, and the next step would be to advance south. According to current policy trends, in no more than three years, this area would also be demolished. Quan Zirong, as a family member of the top official, had implicitly confirmed this. If demolished, the cinema as the lessee would receive a substantial compensation from the government based on the remaining contract years, far exceeding the six million investment.

Simply put, the cinema business wasn’t worth much, but the location of the cinema was very valuable. If he hadn’t bought it, someone else in the know would have. He didn’t care about such small profits; he only took it over despite the trouble because he had more sentimental attachment to it than those other people.

Therefore, Chen An had never thought about how to maximize the cinema’s revenue. In his view, the return rate from all that effort wasn’t even worth the time he spent checking emails about it.

As long as it operated normally and steadily, losing a bit of money didn’t matter. As long as it didn’t cause him trouble, that was fine.

He didn’t plan to tell Cheng Lele any of this. Professionally speaking, she was just a dispatch from Tongda Cinemas, and it wouldn’t be appropriate for her to know their cooperation wouldn’t last very long. Personally, he didn’t want to tell her that this place bearing so many beautiful memories might be demolished, though she might not even care.

Seeing Chen An remain silent for a long while again, Cheng Lele persistently pursued: “Is it a bank loan?”

The cinema acquisition went through his private account. As someone skilled in using financial instruments, he couldn’t possibly pay the full amount in cash, especially when well-connected bank managers had already come around waving low-interest rate banners. Actually, Tang Xin had handled all of this, and he hadn’t paid much attention to it.

Annoyed by Cheng Lele’s persistent questioning, Chen An said concisely, “Yes.”

Cheng Lele’s vision went dark. Thinking of herself drowning in debt, she could only think, “How can a broken me save a broken you?”

From the moment Chen An came in, Cheng Lele had been asking about high salaries, loans, and such matters. Her excessive concern about money made Chen An form an unpleasant association.

Perhaps Cheng Lele was really short on money? She had never had any concept of financial management since childhood, always asking him whenever she wanted to spend money. He hadn’t corrected this habit of hers before because back then he was very confident he could let her indulge in shopping as much as she wanted.

But away from him, he wasn’t sure if she could support herself adequately.

Just as his thoughts were wandering, Cheng Lele suddenly started talking nonsense: “The cinema won’t be profitable in the short term, and reselling it won’t fetch a good price either. If you have cash flow difficulties, tell me. I’ll go sell my house, though it won’t happen that quickly, so don’t wait until the last moment to tell me.”

Chen An’s reactions were usually quick, but this time it took him a full minute to figure out what Cheng Lele was trying to express.

People in the industry described him as reclusive and low-key. He indeed wasn’t the type to show off his wealth, but no one had ever mistaken him for being destitute before.

He tried very hard to put himself in Cheng Lele’s perspective, and seemed to understand a little.

For a moment, he didn’t know what to say—should he produce bank statements and asset certificates to prove his life was reasonably comfortable, or should he go along with her misunderstanding?

Chen An’s hesitant attitude made Cheng Lele think her blunt way of speaking had embarrassed him. She pulled at the corner of her mouth, forcing out a smile, and consoled him: “It’s fine, when money is gone it will come back again. Little brother, I’ll be with you until things get better.”

Because of that last sentence, Chen An readily let Cheng Lele run with her imagination, and even said solemnly, “Unless it’s absolutely the last resort, I won’t let you sell your house.”

Cheng Lele nodded heavily: “Alright, I’ll also work hard to earn money to support the family.”

For some reason, she suddenly felt that little brother’s mood had improved considerably, like a bristling cat whose fur had been smoothed down. She wanted to take this opportunity to ask about godfather, godmother, and grandmother’s situations, but then thought that asking would inevitably lead to reciprocal questions about her own situation, so she had to give up.

Before leaving the office, Chen An said to her, “Work should be balanced. I don’t need employees working nine-nine-six who die from overwork.” Then he closed the door.

Cheng Lele had originally thought Chen An would give her the cold shoulder for a long time, so long that after she said “Please forgive me,” he might never acknowledge her again. Because after abandoning him for seven years, to say such words so lightly on the second day of their reunion seemed very shameless and heartless—even she felt she had botched things.

However, though little brother was angry, he was still caring for her as much as possible.

This—this must be the power of love.

Thinking of this, Cheng Lele’s head hurt again. Her career and love life were both facing dual challenges.