In the president’s office at Huayue Entertainment, Tong Qifeng stared at Sister Shan in surprise. “Ah Shan, what did you say? You know which company that brat is at?”
“Boss, what a coincidence—Mingwei went to a friend of mine’s company this time.”
“Your friend’s company? What exactly do they do?”
“Games.”
“Games? Why would that brat be interested in games? Hasn’t he always been into AI?” Tong Qifeng asked, puzzled.
“Maybe my friend has some deep insights into AI.”
“So Mingwei wants to learn that kind of technology from your friend?”
“Probably! I’m not sure either. Boss, how do you want to handle this? Should we call Mingwei back?”
“No, don’t call him back. If you call him back now, both the company and my household will be turned upside down by that brat. Ah Shan, keep an eye on him for me. Once he gets bored and tired of it, he’ll come back on his own.”
“Understood, boss.”
“By the way, I heard Xiao Zhu got into another conflict with the company veterans?” Tong Qifeng asked, changing the subject.
“It wasn’t really a conflict. You know Old Huang’s temper, boss—he’s like a rock in a latrine: stinky and hard. President Zhu told Old Huang to do something he doesn’t like, so of course Old Huang wouldn’t give him any face.”
“Ugh! Ah Shan, do you think I made the wrong choice with Xiao Zhu? I’ve noticed you, Old Zhou, Old Huang, and Old Yan all don’t really like him.”
“Boss, that’s your call. It’s not my place to make that decision for you.”
Tong Qifeng sighed and waved his hand, signaling Sister Shan could leave.
Sister Shan sighed as she walked out of Tong Qifeng’s office. Just now, Tong Qifeng wasn’t looking for an ambiguous answer from her.
At a moment like that, an employee who truly understood the boss’s mind should have followed the boss’s lead and praised Old Zhu lavishly.
But Sister Shan genuinely couldn’t bring herself to do it. Old Zhu took power far too seriously—he believed that once he became CEO, he should have the final say on everything, big or small.
Sister Shan had once heard Old Zhu say that Huayue Entertainment was originally his sister and brother-in-law’s company. Now that his sister was gone and his brother-in-law was about to retire, and his nephew and niece weren’t interested in taking over, shouldn’t Huayue Entertainment logically be his?
In his view, the veterans like Sister Shan who didn’t follow his wishes were the problem.
Sister Shan figured that once Tong Qifeng officially retired, the company would be in for a shake-up.
Knowing full well that someone disliked her and still having to sing his praises—Sister Shan couldn’t bring herself to do that kind of thing.
Later, Sister Shan went to the studio. “Lin Shuwen,” who was feeling a bit better today, had resumed work and continued filming the MV.
Sister Shan also met the trainee that President Zhu had carefully cultivated.
The girl was quite pretty, and by eye she was at least 170 centimeters tall—clearly half a head taller than “Lin Shuwen” when standing together.
Her long hair, reaching her shoulders, was dyed pink, and she wore obvious Korean-style makeup.
Sister Shan didn’t really like that type of woman, but Luo Ming didn’t have much of a reaction—he’d seen too many similar looks in his past life.
Besides, the girl was very measured in how she spoke and behaved—calling everyone “senior” this and “senior” that, not putting on any airs, and even helping the props team move things.
After a brief chat, Luo Ming learned that the girl’s real name was Wen Wan, her stage name given by the company was Jenny, her hometown was Shanghai, both her parents were high school teachers, and she was only 19 this year.
Nineteen years old—squeezed by the company for 10 years and she’d be 29. If she made it big at 29, the company would pull some tricks to get her to sign another 10-year contract, and her prime youth would all be spent working for the company.
“Senior, why are you looking at me like that? Like you’re looking at an abandoned cat or dog.”
“Uh, you misunderstood. I look at everyone like this. Also, Wen Wan, don’t call me ‘senior’—we don’t usually use that here in China.”
“Then should I call you ‘jiejie’?” Wen Wan asked cautiously.
“Whatever you like.”
“Sister Wen!”
“Mm, you—” Luo Ming was about to say something when he noticed Sister Shan had come in. He handed the script to Wen Wan and said, “Never mind. Wen Wan, take a look at the script first.”
“Okay, Sister Wen.”
Luo Ming walked over to Sister Shan.
“Why are you chatting with her?” Sister Shan asked with a frown.
“She’s a good person, pretty innocent.”
“You’re the innocent one, aren’t you? Making that kind of judgment right after meeting her—don’t let yourself get fooled by some young girl.”
“Sister Shan, to be fair, you’re projecting a bit.”
Sister Shan glanced at Wen Wan, who was flipping through the script, and didn’t waste more words on her. “Alright, alright! Let’s not talk about her. What’s the deal with Long Ye, the one writing songs for you?”
“Sister Shan, do you remember me telling you before about a senior from my college club who was really good at writing poetry? Long Ye is her.” Luo Ming said without hesitation.
Sister Shan thought back—it seemed Lin Shuwen had indeed mentioned this person.
The poetry-writing senior Lin Shuwen mentioned was actually Wang Nan—this was the cover story she and Luo Ming had come up with to hide Long Ye’s identity from Sister Shan.
Sister Shan didn’t seem suspicious. Lin Shuwen had only mentioned this senior in passing at the time, and Sister Shan hadn’t taken it seriously at all—let alone imagined that an ordinary person could have such talent to write songs that Old Huang praised so highly.
“Wenwen, you and this senior of yours must be pretty close, right?”
“Pretty good.”
“Then give her a slightly higher cut of the profits. Use money to keep her tied down. If possible, have her promise to only write songs for you from now on.
Promises are useful whether or not people keep them. If she keeps it, great. If she doesn’t—the better your relationship and the more you give her, the more guilty she’ll feel. You can use that guilt to maximize your own interests.”
“What if you meet someone completely shameless who doesn’t care about promises at all?”
“Seeing someone’s true colors in one sentence is worth more than anything.”
Luo Ming’s eyes lit up at this—Sister Shan really had a good grasp of human nature!
“Don’t worry, Sister Shan. I know what to do.” Luo Ming replied.
Sister Shan nodded. “Good. You focus on filming. I’m going to go see Old Huang.”
The rest of the MV filming went smoothly. Wen Wan was very obedient—whatever the director told her to do, she did. Her personality matched her name perfectly.
After filming ended, Wen Wan timidly asked, “Sister Wen, can I add you on WeChat?”
“Of course.” Luo Ming said, opening his WeChat QR code for Wen Wan to scan.
After adding Lin Shuwen on WeChat, Wen Wan’s face flushed with excitement.
You could tell—the girl really liked Lin Shuwen.
“Sigh” Luo Ming sighed as he watched Wen Wan’s retreating figure.
“Sister Wen, why are you sighing?”
“I just think it’s a pity. A girl with such a good personality, about to be squeezed like a workhorse by the company for 10 years.”
“Sister Wen, is there any chance you also have a 10-year contract?” Chen Sichu said weakly.
“Bonk~” Luo Ming gave Chen Sichu a flick on the forehead. “Can’t you survive without talking?”
Chen Sichu rubbed her forehead, looking somewhat aggrieved. She’d only told the truth! Why was Sister Wen getting upset?
Today was the last day of 2013. The Chen sisters had bought lots of groceries and were going to welcome the New Year together with “Lin Shuwen.”
The two sisters were busy in the kitchen preparing food.
Luo Ming had wanted to call Lin Shuwen, but she declined the call directly—because today she was going to karaoke with the Zhuoguang employees still in Bingzhou.
Earlier, Luo Ming had promised the employees an extra day off for New Year’s. Going above and beyond, Rong Mu let everyone leave early this afternoon.
The large office building soon had only five people left.
They were Luo Ming, Rong Mu, Zhao Ningyuan, Su Qing, and Xu Jiale.
Zhao Ningyuan was from Henan. Back when he worked at Penguin, he’d taken out a loan and bought an apartment in Shencheng—he’d even finished the renovations.
Originally, Zhao Ningyuan had planned to move in right after marrying his fiancée.
But then his fiancée stabbed him in the back. Now even the newly renovated apartment made Zhao Ningyuan feel uncomfortable—he didn’t really want to go back and live there.
Xu Jiale was from Hebei. Recent graduates don’t usually get homesick, and with the company paying triple wages, Xu Jiale had already scouted out where to find a level-18 bleeding-affix witch top. On the first day of the New Year, he was planning to say goodbye to his virginity.
Su Qing was actually from Shanxi—her hometown wasn’t far from Bingzhou—but she hadn’t managed to buy a train ticket for today, so she couldn’t leave either.
Lin Shuwen, stuck in Luo Ming’s body, couldn’t exactly go back to Luo Ming’s home, could she? She wasn’t confident enough in her acting skills to fool Luo Ming’s family.
As for Rong Mu, this guy had originally planned to go to the mahjong parlor, but when he saw there were still four people at the company with nowhere to go, he scrapped the mahjong idea and decided to celebrate New Year’s Eve with everyone.
Luo Ming sighed. He didn’t know why, but at this moment he actually felt a sense of loneliness.
He’d thought Lin Shuwen would share his feelings, but he forgot—with a blockhead like this around, the people around you would never feel lonely.
“Sister Wen, aren’t you a great cook? Today is the last day of 2013—aren’t you going to show off your skills for us?” Chen Sichu came over and said.
“My stomach hurts, I don’t really want to move. Next time—next time for sure.”
“Sister Wen, your period really came at the worst time. We’ve prepared so much good food today, and you can barely eat any of it.”
“Couldn’t you make some lighter dishes?”
“No way. Who shortchanges themselves on New Year’s Eve?”
“Whiz~ pop!” Just as Chen Sichu finished speaking, the sound of fireworks exploding suddenly rang out outside.
Chen Sichu’s eyes lit up at the fireworks and she deliberately said loudly, “Huh? Isn’t the city area supposed to ban fireworks this year?”
“They ban them every year—when has it ever been completely enforced? And stop slacking, come keep an eye on the stove! I can’t handle this alone!”
Hearing Chen Junmiao’s words, Chen Sichu scurried over.
Like brine curdling tofu, one thing always tames another—Chen Sichu’s nemesis was her sister.
Luo Ming walked to the window and watched the fireworks blooming in the sky.
That first one seemed to be a signal—within moments, fireworks were going off one after another in the neighborhood. The explosions broke the night’s silence, adding a bit of liveliness to the originally quiet residential compound.
In the night sky of the approaching New Year, fireworks bloomed like a colorful sea of flowers, bursting with brilliant colors.
They were like sprites in the sky—leaping, spinning, illuminating the dark night.
Each firework had its own unique shape and color—some like blooming lotuses, some like dancing butterflies, and others like shooting stars streaking across the sky.
The moment they burst in the air, their light illuminated the entire night sky. The light came fast and went fast, but that didn’t diminish the splendor of their bloom.
“Chuchu, did you buy fireworks?” Luo Ming turned and asked.
Chen Sichu’s sudden loud comment earlier had already given her away.
“I bought a few—just a little bit.” Chen Sichu said cautiously.
“I want to set off fireworks myself.”
Hearing that “Lin Shuwen” was a kindred spirit, Chen Sichu immediately perked up. “Great! I want to set them off too! Sis, let’s prepare dinner later!”
Chen Junmiao glanced at the fireworks bursting outside the window and, as if possessed, nodded.
When Luo Ming and the Chen sisters went downstairs, they found the ground in front of their building already covered with spent fireworks.
“Sister Wen, look at the fireworks I bought. This one’s ‘Fire Trees and Silver Flowers,’ this one’s a mini version made of skyrockets, this one’s ‘Peacock Flies Southeast,’ this one’s ‘Ten Thousand Golden Scrolls’…”
“Give me the biggest one!”
“Sister Wen, why don’t we save the biggest one for 12 o’clock?”
“At 12 o’clock everyone’s setting them off at once—can you even tell which one is yours? Set it off now so you can actually see it.”
“Oh right! Then go ahead, Sister Wen!”
Luo Ming took the big firework from Chen Sichu, carried it to the side, found the fuse, and pulled a lighter from his pocket.
Click.
A tiny flame rose, its light hitting the bright red firework tube and reflecting back, illuminating Luo Ming’s face red.
The flame touched the fuse—
“Hiss~” The sound of the fuse igniting rang out.
Luo Ming let go of the lighter, ran back under the eaves, and started recording on his phone.
“Whiz~”
A faint red dot shot up into the sky.
“Pop!”
The red dot burst in the sky, transforming into a giant green flower, then split into many small fireworks that scattered and crackled in the air.
“Whiz~ pop!”
One firework after another rose, illuminating the night sky and the ground below.
“Wee-oo~” A sudden urgent police siren rang out.
“Holy crap! The cops are here!”
“Really?”
“Really! The property management even opened the gate for them—run!”
The crowd setting off fireworks downstairs fell into chaos, and the neighborhood instantly fell silent. The night sky returned to quiet.
Luo Ming and the Chen sisters fled with the crowd, “covering their heads and scurrying.”
When the elevator reached the 8th floor, six people got off together.
Besides Luo Ming and the Chen sisters, there was also a couple from across the hall with their child, who looked about 4 or 5 years old.
This was the first time Luo Ming had run into the neighbors.
The couple clearly knew Lin Shuwen. The man with glasses said with a hint of teasing: “Big star runs pretty fast, huh!”
Luo Ming gave an awkward smile.
“Wenwen, Happy New Year.” The woman holding the child said with a smile.
“Happy New Year.” Luo Ming replied politely, and then both families went to their respective homes.
Once inside, Chen Junmiao let out a long breath. She clearly hadn’t expected that setting off fireworks would actually attract the police.
Afterward, the Chen sisters prepared a table full of food, and Luo Ming picked out what he could eat.
Then the three of them played cards until 12 o’clock.
Right at 12, sporadic sounds of fireworks and firecrackers rang out in the neighborhood again.
Luo Ming watched the golden fireworks bursting outside the window, the corners of his mouth curving up slightly. A new year had begun—the future was full of infinite possibilities.
