Chapter Thirty-Seven: A Worthless Plan

"Why not?" Wenxiu asked in confusion. "You’ve learned so many talents—if you joined the entertainment industry, you’d have the perfect stage to show them off."

Yu Qian was amused by her. "Oh, Xiuxiu, you’re so innocent. The entertainment world isn’t as simple as you think. I’ve learned all these things just because I wanted to, nothing more. And right now, what I really love is screenwriting. That’s something I’ve dreamed of doing since my last life."

Wenxiu was even more puzzled. "Why is it so complicated? You can sing, dance, play instruments—doesn’t that make it easy?"

Yu Qian burst out laughing, her stomach aching from the mirth. "Xiuxiu, you’re adorable! You should read more gossip columns, or even hire someone to look into it for you. You’ll soon realize that the hearts of mortals are far more complex and darker than those of immortals and demons."

"Oh. I guess I’ll do some research first. The way you describe it, I’m not sure I even want to dip my hands into showbiz anymore." Wenxiu was dazed. Were mortals really so complicated?

"You don’t have to give up. Once you understand the rules, it’s fine. Just stick to your own principles."

"Mm..." Wenxiu was still a bit lost. She didn’t understand—weren’t they all just people? Many immortals in the Celestial Realm were mortals who ascended. They weren’t complicated, were they?

"Don’t overthink it. Stay in the mortal world a while longer, get to know more people, and you’ll understand soon enough."

"Alright, I got it!" Wenxiu tossed the matter to the back of her mind and hurried home.

Yu Qian obediently went home as well.

...

Wenxiu watched Yu Qian get into her car and leave. Just as she turned to head back to the securities firm, the complexity of the entertainment industry resurfaced in her mind.

After a moment of contemplation, she decided to look for a private detective.

She could have investigated herself, but she didn’t have the time. And with money, what couldn’t be accomplished?

For someone like her, having money meant having the world at her fingertips.

She decided to hold off on meddling in the entertainment industry for now. Better to understand the lay of the land before making any moves.

Wenxiu still hadn’t given up on pulling Yu Qian into showbiz. With her wealth, beauty, talent, and intellect—not to mention the support of their online group—leaving her brilliance behind the scenes seemed like a waste.

...

Ge Lulu had changed a lot—her arrogance had faded, replaced by a gentleness that made her all the more popular. Following Yu Qian’s example had not only transformed her character but also made her more driven. Even her parents were more willing for her to be friends with Yu Qian.

While on business in the provincial capital, she even took time to visit Yu Wen and the others to strengthen their bond.

In Hangzhou, Zhou Jingchen kept a covert eye on Yu Qian’s every move.

He juggled classes, company affairs, and watching over Yu Qian, running himself ragged and losing weight from the stress.

"So exhausted!" he groaned, sprawled on his bed, feeling like he couldn’t take it anymore.

"I don’t know how she manages to handle so much. How does Yu Qian keep everything running so smoothly?"

The more he learned about her, the more he was drawn in. He wanted to stay by her side, to watch her grow up. He was afraid someone else might capture her heart.

It seemed he’d need to speed up the search for a professional manager.

After a full day in bed, he finally regained his strength and got back to work.

Knock, knock, knock.

"Come in," Zhou Jingchen said without looking up from his files.

"Young Zhou, here’s the finalized plan for the ‘Strange Tales from a Chinese Studio’ project," Minister Liu said, bringing in the staff who’d been working overtime for two months to complete it.

Zhou Jingchen leafed through the proposal with a blank expression. Minister Liu’s heart started to race with unease.

Sure enough, when Zhou Jingchen reached the back, his brows furrowed.

What was this? He’d asked for an MMORPG, and they brought him a card game? Had these people lost their minds?

With a slap, he threw the file on the desk, his anger barely contained. "Are you out of your minds? How dare you bring me something like this?"

Minister Liu shrank back in fear. "Young Zhou, is there... something wrong with it?"

He must have been mad to have any faith in this planning department. They couldn’t even handle a prime IP adaptation, let alone come up with a good proposal. No wonder the company had been stuck as an agent for years, unable to develop games in-house.

"You’re not embarrassed to present me with a card game? I asked for an MMORPG! Are you all useless?"

Seeing Minister Liu’s bewildered face, Zhou Jingchen felt a headache coming on.

"Young Zhou, card games are the most popular genre right now..." Minister Liu protested, also feeling the strain. MMORPGs were out of fashion; card games were at their peak. Besides, ‘Strange Tales from a Chinese Studio’ was a collection of short stories—how could that become an MMORPG with a main and side quest structure? It was nonsense.

"Enough. Don’t bother with this anymore. You’re all dismissed." He waved them away impatiently—just seeing them gave him a headache.

Once they were gone, Zhou Jingchen called Han Zhu in. "Get ready to hire new staff."

"Huh? Hire new people?" Han Zhu was confused. The company wasn’t short-handed.

"Recruit for the planning department. Fire those useless ones. After two months, they can’t even come up with a decent proposal."

"But Young Zhou, isn’t that a bit harsh? They’re all veterans. Letting them all go at once would cause trouble," Han Zhu said cautiously.

"No rush. We’ll replace them gradually, one by one. No need to do it all at once." As he was about to send him out, he added, "We need a new department head too. Once you find someone suitable, transfer Minister Liu to a different position."

"Understood." Han Zhu paused, then left when he was certain there were no further instructions.

Back at his own desk, Han Zhu let out a sigh of relief. An enraged President Zhou was terrifying—he was worried he’d be fired just for making a wrong move.

Clearly, the planning team’s proposal was terrible; otherwise, President Zhou wouldn’t be this furious.

Zhou Jingchen pulled out the ideas he’d jotted down earlier, feeling a headache coming on. He really didn’t have the time to flesh out the entire game himself.

Two agency contracts were about to expire, and he was still debating whether to renew them. He’d thought the planning department, having been with the company for so many years, would be competent. Clearly, that was a mistake.

Going over the ‘Strange Tales from a Chinese Studio’ proposal once more, he realized there were a few promising talents. The sections on narrative dialogue and character skills were quite well done.

After some thought, he called Han Zhu back in. "Liu Fan, Chen Chen, Yang Yue, and Fan Minmin from the planning department—bring those four to my office."

"Yes, sir."

Since he had no time to perfect the entire game himself, Zhou Jingchen decided to form a small team and lead it personally.

With the company set to handle different games and software in the future, the best approach would be dedicated teams for each project.

This realization felt like the answer to his problems.

For now, he would keep the agency games as they were, but Yunbo and ‘Strange Tales’ could be the first to use this model.

When the four arrived, Zhou Jingchen regarded them with a deep, inscrutable look that made them all nervous before he finally spoke. "You’ve probably heard from Minister Liu that the original proposal has been scrapped."

"Yes," the four replied quietly.

Minister Liu had gone back and cursed them all out—useless! Worthless! That was his verdict on the entire department.

"The proposal was garbage. The whole department worked for two months and still couldn’t grasp what kind of game I wanted."

His pronouncement made the four of them flinch.

"I thought there wasn’t a single capable person in the department. But after a closer look, I realized there are some with real talent." Zhou Jingchen stood and fixed them with a steady gaze. "Of the entire proposal, the only parts I found decent were yours."

"Thank you for your recognition, President Zhou," the four said. They weren’t fools—if they were the only ones commended and summoned to his office, he clearly had other plans for them.