Start by Spending One Billion [Entertainment Industry]

Lin Aike had just finished filming when her assistant excitedly rushed over with a phone in hand: "Keke, your Weibo followers are skyrocketing again!"

"What's going on?" Lin Aike was both surprised and delighted. "Didn't the last surge die down already?"

Had the company started promoting her? But her agent had said they’d wait until the drama aired to begin marketing.

The assistant handed her the phone: "It’s President Sheng! President Sheng is trending again!"

Lin Aike froze. Hadn’t the buzz about that wealthy fan already faded? Had some influencer reignited the hype?

But when she took the phone, her jaw dropped.

"Huaxing Building belongs to President Sheng?!!!"

Many entertainment companies were based in Shanghai, including Lin Aike’s agency. Having spent considerable time there, she knew exactly what Huaxing Building represented.

"Right? Look—some sharp-eyed netizens dug it up. Huaxing Building was recently transferred, and the new owner has the surname Sheng."

Lin Aike was still dazed. "Could it just be a coincidence? Someone else with the same surname?"

"Unlikely!" The assistant was practically bouncing. "President Sheng just started her company, right? It all lines up! And didn’t you say she told you she planned to set up in Shanghai?"

Lin Aike instantly recalled that moment.

After their late-night snack, as they walked back, Sheng Quan sipped milk tea and nibbled on a leftover skewer, casually mentioning:

"I’m planning to open a company in Shanghai too. Come visit me when it’s ready."

Having rented apartments before, Lin Aike eagerly shared a slew of rental tips—most of them complaints like, "You’ll never guess what your neighbors are up to."

Sheng Quan listened while finishing her skewer and milk tea, then summed it up: "True, it’s never ideal when it’s not your own turf. So I’ll probably set up on my own property."

At the time, Lin Aike assumed "property" meant a modest floor in an ordinary office building.

But now it turned out President Sheng’s "turf" was an entire commercial skyscraper?!

And the craziest part? She’d just bought it.

Lin Aike knew Sheng Quan was wealthy, but not this wealthy!

Until now, she’d assumed President Sheng was just a generous upper-middle-class heiress. Plenty of rich kids could spare a million or two, though most weren’t interested in showbiz.

But buying an entire building—and a prime one like Huaxing Building? You could count the people in Shanghai with that kind of money on one hand.

"No wonder… No wonder General Manager Wu from Yusuo Media was fawning over President Sheng…"

Lin Aike stared at her own hands, murmuring, "I held hands with a tycoon who owns a skyscraper in Shanghai… and went to eat barbecue with her."

"We toasted with skewered chicken hearts."

"We ogled handsome guys together."

"I even turned down her offer of milk tea because I was watching my weight."

Given another chance, she’d only say: Fatten me up.

The rest of the crew were equally stunned.

Zhou Zhi: "Holy crap, how many billions is that?"

Wang Zheng was already punching numbers into a calculator, then showed Zhou Zhi the result.

Zhou Zhi: "Ones, tens, hundreds… I never dreamed I’d live to count past a hundred million… Wow, my follower count is exploding even faster now. Am I about to go viral overnight thanks to President Sheng?!"

Lin Aike: "We’re all about to go viral. If Director Wan hadn’t refused interviews, reporters would be swarming us for details about President Sheng’s time on set."

"Yan Hui, check your Weibo—your followers must be soaring. You’re the one President Sheng personally signed. Everyone’s gotta be curious about you."

Yan Hui nodded and pulled out his phone, but before he could check, it rang—Sheng Quan calling.

The previously chatty cast fell silent instantly. Outwardly calm, they were practically leaning in to eavesdrop.

Truthfully, Yan Hui was nervous too, flattered that someone as wealthy as Sheng Quan had chosen him. He knew he wasn’t exceptionally handsome, his personality was reserved, and while his acting was solid, plenty in the industry could match it.

To her, signing him might be trivial, but to him, it had reshaped his entire future.

"Company housing’s ready, near the office. Head straight there after wrap. Also, I’ve talked to Wan Bao—we’re rescheduling your scenes for the next two days so you can shoot for *The Crane Years* first."

Yan Hui agreed immediately: "I’ll go tonight."

"Good. Oh, and we’re hiring agents. Any you’d particularly like to work with?"

Yan Hui’s eyes brightened slightly, his usually gentle voice tinged with hope—and a hint of uncertainty:

"There is one. She’s still at another agency, but I think she’d jump at the chance to join us."

On the other end, Sheng Quan smiled.

She knew exactly who he meant. In fact, she’d anticipated his answer before even asking.

Yuan Zixin.

In *Starlight*, her fate was bleak: a talented agent repeatedly forced out of jobs, vanishing without a trace.

Mentioned only once in passing through Yan Hui’s perspective, readers barely noticed her.

But Sheng Quan admired her—deeply.

***

"Yuan Zixin!!!"

A file slammed onto the desk. Her boss fumed: "Thank god the contract’s signed, or how would you explain this to upstairs? Did you not see? General Manager Wu wanted to chat with Ming Qi, and when you interfered, his face turned thunderous."

Yuan Zixin picked up the contract: "'Chat'? If I hadn’t stepped in, his hand would’ve been under Ming Qi’s skirt. She was in tears, and that creep kept groping her. Disgusting."

"What could we do? He’s a known predator. And you—everyone else just sat there. At worst, he’d cop a feel. Why provoke him? Now management’s pissed, and even I can’t shield you."

Her boss massaged his temples. "You’re brilliant at your job, but this knight-in-shining-armor complex? This isn’t a wuxia drama. I get it—you want to protect the young artists. But half of them won’t even thank you."

"Take Wen Guang. You shielded him spotlessly, helped him blow up. And his repayment? Dropped you, then blamed you for not landing him better gigs. Makes my blood boil!"

Hearing the name Wen Guang, Yuan Zixin's expression darkened for a moment: "This was indeed my oversight. I didn’t expect him to put on such an act right in front of me. But Ming Qi made it clear to me—she doesn’t want to gain resources through such methods."

"What she wants doesn’t matter. The company wants it. They signed her to make money," her superior sighed. "Even if Ming Qi refuses, or you or I disapprove, what difference does it make? This industry is just like that. If you can’t change it, you might as well turn a blind eye."

"Enough, let’s drop it. This is always your problem. Later, come with me to apologize to General Manager Wu and try to smooth things over. Don’t let this happen again."

Yuan Zixin shook her head with a bitter smile. "Boss, I really can’t do it. My conscience won’t allow it. Maybe I’m just not cut out for this industry. I’ve thought about it for a long time, and I’ve decided it’s better to resign. Thank you for tolerating me for so long."

As she turned to leave, her superior suddenly called out, "Zixin."

Yuan Zixin turned back and saw the conflicted look on his face.

"I used to be like you too. But you have to understand—people need to survive. If everyone is shady and you’re the only one who’s clean, you’ll be ostracized no matter where you go."

"If you ever change your mind, there’ll always be a place for you here."

Yuan Zixin stood still for a second but ultimately walked away.

"Thank you, but I don’t think I’ll be back."

She packed her belongings in her office, and before long, news of Yuan Zixin’s resignation spread throughout the company.

Some colleagues came to see her off, urging her to swallow her pride and make amends with the higher-ups. Ming Qi burst in, tears streaming down her face, asking if Yuan Zixin was resigning because she had helped her.

"It’s my fault. If I hadn’t asked for your help, this wouldn’t have happened. I’ll go apologize to them. Please don’t leave, Sister Yuan."

Yuan Zixin reached out and wiped Ming Qi’s tears away. "It’s not your fault. I was never a good fit for this place to begin with."

She advised, "After I’m gone, you’ll have to stand up for yourself, understand? You’re practically half of the company’s cash cow now. They only push you around because you’re too soft. But if you toughen up, they won’t dare cross you—they can’t afford to lose both you and the money."

Ming Qi nodded between sobs. With her delicate, pretty features, even crying uncontrollably, she looked heartbreakingly beautiful—like a pear blossom drenched in rain.

"I’ll remember. I’ll focus on acting, on doing my best. When I become a big star, I’ll hire you back as my manager."

Yuan Zixin couldn’t help but laugh at her tearful yet determined vow. "You know, someone else once said the same thing to me."

Ming Qi, barely an adult and still naive despite her grief, was instantly curious, her reddened eyes blinking open. "Who?"

"Another hopeless do-gooder like me."

Yuan Zixin’s tone was self-deprecating as she said "hopeless do-gooder." In the entertainment industry, helping others had somehow become something to mock, a sign of being foolish.

Sometimes, the very people they tried to rescue would even turn against them.

Ming Qi asked hesitantly, "What happened to them?"

Now?

Yuan Zixin recalled the trending topic she’d seen earlier that day, flashing back to the image of a young, green Yan Hui shielding another artist, his body trembling but his stance stubbornly firm as he declared, "This is a crime. Take one more step, and I’ll call the police."

Ten years had passed in the blink of an eye.

Looking at Ming Qi, as inexperienced as Yan Hui had been back then, Yuan Zixin patted her head. "Well… he was lucky. He met a very good person."

That young, sincere, and purely admiring Miss Sheng Quan.

Yuan Zixin was happy for him—and a little envious, too.

But now, none of that mattered to her anymore.

As she left the company, Yuan Zixin ran into Wen Guang.

Her expression remained completely unreadable.

Wen Guang, on the other hand, looked both smug and uneasy.

As they passed each other, he suddenly stopped and turned to call after her, "No other company will take you in. If you quit this industry, you won’t even be able to make ends meet."

Yuan Zixin ignored him and strode out of the building.

The moment she stepped outside, her phone rang.

She freed a hand to answer. "Hello?"

"Hello, this is Sheng Quan."

Standing before the floor-to-ceiling window on the 33rd floor of Huaxing Building, Sheng Quan gazed down at the bustling traffic below.

"Are you open to a job offer?"