As he passed the screenwriter, who was stunned by the sudden turn of events at the entrance, Ye Zhou smiled at him in a friendly manner.
“Next time you’re short of money, you can just say so. There’s no need to make money this way.” Patting the stiff screenwriter’s shoulder, he continued, “Oh, no, I guess it’s not just about money, but also opportunities, right? Which company, Xingyu1The author used Xing Rui in the earlier chapters or Summit?”
The screenwriter, whose inner thoughts were hit, turned pale and then flushed as he attempted to defend himself, “Director Ye, I…”
However, Ye Zhou already sensed it and interrupted him before he could continue. His tone was neutral, betraying no emotion, but his eyes held a hint of pity, “It must be Xingyu, but I’ve heard that Xingyu hasn’t been doing well lately. Unfortunately, I have nothing to offer you, so I wish you the best of luck.”
His words were not an exaggeration. Xingyu was the film and television company that Jiang Yu had struggled to establish. Two years ago, it had acquired the rights to “Battle City 2” for a staggering one hundred million, causing a sensation.
Many in the industry held high expectations for this film and television company. However, after spending a fortune on the rights to “Battle City 2,” Xingyu’s subsequent investments were not as successful as anticipated.
Take last year’s collaboration between Xingyu and Summit Peak on “The Pursuit.” The cost wasn’t too high, but it wasn’t low either, totaling over forty million. The release was strategically scheduled during the National Day Golden Week holiday, when a dark horse emerged, but unfortunately, it had nothing to do with Xingyu and Summit’s “The Pursuit.”
After its release, “The Pursuit” failed to create even a splash, ultimately earning a measly four million yuan at the box office, resulting in a disastrous loss.
If that wasn’t enough, Xingyu went on to make four more investments through collaborations with Summit, self-produced projects, and other means. Among them, the best-performing one could barely break even.
As for Summit, the company had recently been embroiled in a scandal for mistreating artists. A manager exposed the schedules and exorbitant breach of contract penalties for several of the company’s popular artists, essentially spelling out ‘exploitation,’ causing a public uproar. Currently, Summit was mired in this controversy.
Even worse, some of Summit Entertainment’s most profitable artists were planning to take advantage of this opportunity to jump ship, leaving the company’s top management in a state of panic.
At this point, Summit had yet to become as powerful and unchecked as depicted in the later stages of the novel. Their connections and capital accumulation were far from as formidable as in the previous life, so this scandal had a significant impact on Summit.
Therefore, whether Cheng Ran agreed to send him to a Summit project or an investment project at Xingyu, the prospects were rather bleak.
The screenwriter watched Ye Zhou’s retreating figure and finally relaxed from his tense state. He let out a soft scoff and muttered, “The project I want to join is not some small production; it’s ‘Battle City 2’.”
After cursing, the scriptwriter cautiously peered into the chaotic room, noticing Cheng Ran’s pale face and clearly agitated expression. He hurriedly approached in a fawning manner to placate him.
——
When Jiang Tingyuan returned home, it was already past nine in the evening. The company had been quite busy recently, and even as the president, he could not escape the fate of working overtime.
As the car stopped in front of the villa, Jiang Tingyuan’s brow furrowed slightly upon seeing the house shrouded in darkness without a single light on.
In the past, no matter how late he returned from overtime, he could see the lights on from afar. Although they had never made any agreement. Jiang Tingyuan had grown accustomed to the lights Ye Zhou left on for him when he returned late.
However, today was an exception.
Such situations had occurred before, but only when Ye Zhou was away filming or unavailable, and he would always inform Jiang Tingyuan in advance.
As far as Jiang Tingyuan could recall, apart from the phone call during lunchtime, Ye Zhou hadn’t called again today, and he hadn’t mentioned filming a new project recently.
Lost in thought, Jiang Tingyuan had reached the entrance. Upon entering, the first thing he did was turn on the lights, and the second was to take out his phone, intending to call Ye Zhou.
As the lights came on, Jiang Tingyuan’s hand paused mid-dial, his gaze fixed on the person lying on the sofa. Who else could it be but Ye Zhou?
He tiptoed towards the sofa, where Ye Zhou lay curled up, his sleep seemingly restless, brows tightly furrowed as if troubled by something.
Jiang Tingyuan’s brow unconsciously creased as he observed him. Although the room had heating, it was deep into winter, and the temperature in the living room was a few degrees lower than the bedroom due to the many windows. Sleeping like this could easily lead to catching a cold.
Frowning, he first tried to wake Ye Zhou by tapping his shoulder, but it was to no avail. In response to his disturbance, Ye Zhou not only didn’t wake up but also reached out to embrace the offending arm.
Jiang Tingyuan glanced at his arm firmly held by Ye Zhou, then down at his sleeping face. With a soft sigh, he wrapped Ye Zhou in a nearby blanket and lifted him, blanket and all, off the sofa.
Without turning on the bedroom lights, Jiang Tingyuan gently smoothed Ye Zhou’s furrowed brow by the faint moonlight streaming in from the window, an unusual childish gesture, and placed a searing kiss on his forehead.
It was a kiss devoid of desire, pure and simple.
As he was about to leave, Jiang Tingyuan felt his clothes being tugged. Turning back, he saw that Ye Zhou had woken up at some point, his unfocused eyes staring blankly at him.
After a while, those eyes regained focus, and his voice sounded hoarse from just waking up, “You’re back?”
“Yeah, just got back.” Jiang Tingyuan replied, reaching out to smooth Ye Zhou’s tousled hair, his tone indulgent, “Go to sleep if you’re tired. No need to wait for me in the future.”
However, Ye Zhou shook his head and rubbed his face with his hands, trying to become more awake.
Turning on the lights, the brightness instantly dispelled the darkness. Ye Zhou patted the space beside him on the bed and beckoned to Jiang Tingyuan, “Jiang-ge, come sit here.”
Although puzzled, Jiang Tingyuan complied and sat down on the edge of the bed.
Seeing him seated, Ye Zhou got out of bed and said, “I’ll go wash my face. Give me two minutes.”
With that, he hurried to the bathroom. Only when the cool water splashed onto his face did Ye Zhou finally shake off the last remnants of drowsiness.
Water droplets trickled down his face and into the sink. Ye Zhou braced himself on the edges of the sink, smiling at his reflection in the mirror, silently musing, “We’re just taking what we need. It’s nothing. Worst case scenario, we’ll part ways. It’s not a big deal.”
When Ye Zhou came out, Jiang Tingyuan happened to look over, their gazes meeting in mid-air, locking eyes.
Jiang Tingyuan’s eyes were as calm as ever, as if nothing could disturb his composure, no matter how significant the event.
But Ye Zhou’s state of mind was far from serene. Although he had appeared nonchalant and casual when facing Cheng Ran, only he knew the pain he felt when the knife cut deep.
It was impossible to claim indifference. Although Ye Zhou could rationally accept the situation, as he had been contemplating this all afternoon, this relationship was inherently unequal.
Each took what they needed; the original needed Jiang Tingyuan’s money and power, while Jiang Tingyuan needed the original’s heart. As long as both parties agreed, it was an equal exchange. Nothing more.
Ye Zhou understood the reasoning, yet he still felt a little… sad. Just a tiny bit.
Ye Zhou pulled over a computer chair and sat facing Jiang Tingyuan, carefully choosing his words before speaking, “Jiang-ge, I think we need to talk.”
Jiang Tingyuan looked into his earnest eyes, his previously relaxed posture straightening a little, “Okay.”
“What did you want to discuss?”
Ye Zhou disliked keeping things bottled up. If he had doubts, he would ask. If something happened, he would resolve it. If he wanted answers, he would seek them out himself. If there was a misunderstanding, he would clear it up. And if it wasn’t a misunderstanding, he would lay it all out and make a decision without regrets.
The information Cheng Ran provided that afternoon had indeed dealt a strong blow to Ye Zhou. But so what? Even if what he said was true, Ye Zhou wouldn’t blindly believe one side of the story.
Taking a deep breath, Ye Zhou met Jiang Tingyuan’s gaze, “Cheng Ran came to me today and mentioned Yu Qiuze, saying he was a friend you grew up with.”
After finishing, Ye Zhou didn’t rush to continue but looked at Jiang Tingyuan as if seeking confirmation.
“Yeah, he saved me once,” Jiang Tingyuan acknowledged the statement.
With the confirmation, Ye Zhou continued, “I heard that Mr. Yu suffers from a congenital heart condition. As he gets older, the strain on his heart increases. Without a heart transplant, it would be difficult for him to live a healthy life.”
The conversation had reached this point, and Jiang Tingyuan understood Ye Zhou’s implication.
A prolonged silence fell between them, the air in the room seemingly frozen by the stillness.
After who knows how long, Ye Zhou finally heard Jiang Tingyuan’s voice again.
“It’s true,” Jiang Tingyuan’s tone was low and steady. After a pause, he suddenly looked up at Ye Zhou with a faint smile. “Your blood type is very rare.”
“Our relationship did indeed begin because your blood type matched Yu Qiuze’s. So…”
“Do you have any other questions?”
“I see.” Ye Zhou nodded slowly, his fingertips numb, his voice hesitant as he spoke in a very deliberate pace, “Shall we settle the accounts, then?”
Jiang Tingyuan: “…?”
Ye Zhou pursed his lips, took out his phone, and opened the calculator app. Glancing at the unresponsive Jiang Tingyuan, he shrugged casually, “Here’s the thing, Jiang-ge. I’m really grateful for your care and support all this time. You’ve been an incredibly generous benefactor.”
“If possible, I really don’t want to end this relationship. I truly don’t want to part with you, Jiang-ge.” Ye Zhou sighed. “But after much thought…”
“I’ve realized that my life is more important than money. So, I’m really sorry, Jiang-ge.”
Ye Zhou waved his phone, his tone serious, “Let’s calculate how much you’ve spent on me over the years. I’ll pay you back as soon as possible.”
After speaking, Ye Zhou paused, then continued with a hint of embarrassment on his face. “If the amount is too large, I might need to… pay in installments.”
“But don’t worry, I will repay it all. After we’ve calculated the total, I’ll write you an IOU with my seal, I have the paperwork and sealing wax ready. Just fill in the amount when you’ve done the calculations!”
“Once the IOU is written, we’ll go our separate ways, no lingering attachments. I keep my word, you can count on me!”
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