Neither Luo Ming nor Lin Shuwen had been idle over the weekend.
Luo Ming spent his time losing weight while building his memory palace.
Lin Shuwen, on the other hand, was busy getting things ready for recruitment.
Per their agreement, Luo Ming would take Lin Shuwen’s bank card to the bank on Monday and transfer the promised five-million-yuan investment.
Early Monday morning, the moment Lin Shuwen opened her eyes, she saw the familiar ceiling above her, along with that long-missed sense of pressure on her chest.
“Wait—am I… back?”
Over on his side, Luo Ming let out a similar exclamation of surprise.
Then Luo Ming pulled out his phone and dialed Lin Shuwen’s number.
Lin Shuwen picked up instantly.
“Miss Lin.”
“Luo Ming!”
“You go first!”
“No, you go first!”
After more than ten seconds of silence, it was Luo Ming who finally spoke up: “Miss Lin, we’ve switched back.”
“Yeah. So… do you think we’ll switch again?” To be honest, Lin Shuwen felt she actually preferred life on Luo Ming’s side.
The feeling of starting a business together with a good friend gave her a sense of accomplishment she’d never experienced before.
Plus, over on his side, she could eat whatever she wanted without ever worrying about her weight.
Luo Ming wasn’t sure either. He scratched his head and said, “Miss Lin, I’m not certain whether we’ll switch back again. This time, we swapped from last Monday to this Monday—exactly one week.
My guess is, if it does happen again, it’ll most likely be after another week’s interval.
Of course, it’s also possible we won’t swap at all anymore. Or maybe—”
“Or maybe the timing isn’t fixed—it could happen again tomorrow, or the day after.” Lin Shuwen finished his sentence.
“You’re right. So, Miss Lin, we need to make the most of our time right now and take care of everything we couldn’t get done this past week.”
“You’re absolutely right. First, I need to record that song you wrote, Light Years Away. As for the money from that song—”
“Miss Lin, are you still willing to invest in our studio?” Luo Ming cut her off.
“Of course I am!”
“Then don’t worry about payment for the song. And for now, I won’t allocate you any studio shares either.
As for the copyright—since I already told everyone in front of so many people that you wrote it, let’s just leave it as your song.
If we don’t swap again after this, we can revisit all of this later.
But if we do keep swapping… then none of these talks really matter anyway. Your career is mine, and mine is yours. Let’s just think of it as helping each other live the other’s life well—how about that?”
“So you’re trading one song for my five million yuan? That’s a pretty sweet deal for you.” Lin Shuwen teased.
“If I can write one, I can write ten. Or a hundred.”
“Alright then—I’ll be waiting for your songs. It just so happens that I still don’t have a title track for this album yet!”
With that, they reached an agreement and hung up.
Lin Shuwen set down her phone, pulled out a digital scale, and stepped on it—52.2 kilograms.
“Not only did I not gain weight… I actually lost some.” She touched her waist and murmured to herself.
She couldn’t help but recall how Luo Ming had complained to her that he was practically turning into a rabbit from all the dieting.
A small smile tugged at the corner of her mouth. So he really had been putting in the effort to exercise, huh!
A little while later, Chen Sichu came over, and Lin Shuwen asked her to drive her straight to the bank.
“The bank? What are you going there for, Wenjie?” Chen Sichu asked casually.
“An old high school classmate of mine is starting a business. I’ve decided to invest a bit of money in him.”
“Is it reliable? You don’t think it’s a scam, do you?”
“Absolutely not. I’ve played the game he made—it’s really fun. Investing in him is definitely not a loss.”
“A game? A mobile game? Smartphones are pretty popular these days, and games on them can make good money.”
“There’s a mobile version, yeah.”
“That doesn’t sound too bad then.”
“Oh, and don’t mention this to Sister Shan.”
Chen Sichu nodded. After all, both she and her sister were paid by Lin Shuwen—she was their real boss.
Chen Sichu knew exactly whose instructions to follow.
For a private outing like this, Chen Sichu definitely wasn’t going to take the luxury van. In the underground parking garage of Lin Shuwen’s apartment complex, there was a very unassuming Volkswagen Lavida.
That car wasn’t even worth as much as the parking spot itself. Whenever they went out privately, this was what they drove.
Lin Shuwen had originally wanted to buy a Mercedes-Benz sports coupe, but now that she was investing in Luo Ming’s studio, she couldn’t afford it for the time being.
Her apartment in Shanghai was 150 square meters. At 27,000 yuan per square meter, with the property management rounding down the odd amount, she’d paid a total of 4 million yuan for it.
As for the parking space—Sister Shan had generously bought that for her out of her own pocket.
Lin Shuwen had been in the industry for just over a year now. She’d acted in three TV dramas, released five songs, and had a cameo in Director Liu’s film—though that barely counted, since she only appeared for 20 seconds.
Of those three dramas, her role as the third female lead in the first one gave her a bit of recognition and helped her step into the industry, but it didn’t pay much.
After all, she was a complete newcomer back then—just getting a chance to act was already a blessing.
For the next two dramas, she played the second female lead in both. Since she was signed with a company and had Sister Shan as her agent handling things, she earned over 4 million yuan in total from those roles.
Of course, the lion’s share went to the company.
Lin Shuwen had signed a B-tier contract, splitting earnings 40-60 with the company—she kept 40%.
Then again, without the company, she wouldn’t have made anywhere near that much. Even if she could land roles on her own—which was doubtful—without the company’s backing, her pay would’ve been heavily slashed.
A big part of why she got such decent pay was that the company used its own resources to promote the dramas.
Unfortunately, both dramas flopped hard.
To be fair, the failures had nothing to do with Lin Shuwen. Both shows had sizable budgets—tens of millions invested each.
But 70% of that money went straight to the actors’ salaries, leaving barely anything for the actual production. With such a tiny budget, how could you possibly make a good show?
Luckily, the OSTs from both dramas were huge hits—massive, in fact. One of them even made it into the top ten of the monthly charts across major music platforms.
Because of those two OSTs, Lin Shuwen was essentially forced to give up her acting dreams and became a singer instead. She later released three more songs, all of which did well.
Those five songs brought her a total of 2 million yuan in revenue.
The rest of her income came from commercial performances and gigs throughout the year.
After deducting the cost of buying her apartment, Lin Shuwen now had exactly 5,063,200 yuan left in her account. She immediately transferred 5 million yuan to the bank account of the studio that was still in the process of being registered. She was in and out of the bank in less than ten minutes.
“Wenjie, how much did you invest?” Chen Sichu asked curiously, surprised that she was done so quickly.
“500,000 yuan.” Lin Shuwen made up a random number.
“Is 500,000 enough to make a game?”
“Plenty.”
“Oh. What’s the game called, by the way?”
“Plants vs. Zombies.”
“Plants vs. Zombies? That’s such a weird name.”
“Alright, alright! Enough about that. Let’s head to the company. I want to record Light Years Away today.” Lin Shuwen changed the subject.
With work on the table, Chen Sichu stopped dwelling on trivial matters. “Perfect timing—Director Liu’s team has been pushing for it too. Sister Shan said it’s best to let them nudge once, then get it done. Any more delays and it’ll hold up the movie’s release.”
“Then let’s hurry up and go! Sister Shan should have the arrangement ready by now. We’ll head straight to the studio to record.”
“Got it, Wenjie.” With that, Chen Sichu started the car and drove toward the company.
